The Bloodbath

aya
Administrator

6,261 POSTS
last seen Sept 15, 2024 22:06:23 GMT -5

"GUNNERRRRR~"

The Bloodbath Feb 26, 2011 10:27:52 GMT -5

Post by aya on Feb 26, 2011 10:27:52 GMT -5

Welcome to the 57th Annual Hunger Games, tributes and spectators! First and foremost, I would like to encourage each and every one of you to read the rules, as it makes life a lot easier for everyone when all parties involved are aware of the rules and expectations.

Just a reminder, please be sure to PM me with your daily movement (assuming you live past the Bloodbath) and make ALL necessary updates on the Tribute Maintenance Thread. Updates not made on this thread will not be counted.

For smooth operation of the bloodbath, please be aware of the following:
-Everyone must make an introductory post; it doesn't matter if you've taken Stealth or not.
-You may not attack tributes who haven't made their introductory posts.
-You must, must, must wait for at least THREE other people to post in between your attacks. If you are in an alliance of four, you must wait for at least one person who is not in your alliance to post as well.
-One tribute may only be attacked six times between their attacks.
-You must also wait for at least three other people to post in between your last attack post and your fleeing post.
-You may not attack in your fleeing post.
-Please be aware that if you have a broken/severed leg or leg part, you may not flee without the aid of another tribute, who must also flee.
-Once you flee, you may not re-enter the bloodbath.
-"Generic Attack Posts" are completely, positively, 100% prohibited in the Bloodbath. All posts must adhere to site standards.

ANY violations of these rules will result in an additional 8 damage dealt to the offending tribute.

Additionally, please make sure that you specify who you're attacking. When you're finished, for the sake of convenience, please edit your post to include the corresponding attack, for the sake of convenience.

***EDIT: Clarification: You ARE allowed to travel to one other bordering area this Games Day (Monolith, Rock Field, or Geyser) and then you may still travel to a different area on Day 2

Tribute item lists may be found on this thread. Information on what to do with it is found on this thread as well.

Additional items in the Wealth are as follows:

Antivenom (1 use)
4 pairs of pliers
Flashlight
Rope
Lantern
Flint
Roll of Duct Tape
Tweezers
Empty Water Jug
Needle and Thread
Armored Vest (+10 torso)

EDIT: To clarify, the Wealth also includes any unclaimed items, as well as the items of dead tributes. The exception to this would be weapons, which can be claimed by the tribute's killer following his/her death.

Today's Weather
Sunny
High: 95F (35C)
Low: 86F (30C)

Tribute Uniforms
-Black T-shirt (short sleeves)
-Dark purple hooded sweatshirt
-Khaki cargo pants
-Black wool socks
-Black leather belt
-Black running shoes

This Hunger Games day ends on Saturday, March 5th. Anyone who has not posted will be killed, as always.

five
four
three
two
one
…
[GONG]

Let the 57th Annual Hunger Games begin!

[/blockquote]

Last Edit: Feb 26, 2011 17:55:06 GMT -5 by Lulu

{characters}

certified kindergartener
stranded in "beach" "city"
leader of the crystal gems

peanutpie

guest

The Bloodbath Feb 26, 2011 10:35:55 GMT -5

Post by peanutpie on Feb 26, 2011 10:35:55 GMT -5

Phoenix Medona

[/color]
So here the story goes, it makes me wonder.[/size][/font][/url]

Phoenix Medona opened her eyes, tracing the ceiling. It was smooth and champagne colored, something she found to be soothing to the eye. Of course, today, of all days, she would be plucked from the wonderfully warm down comforter and silk sheets and whisked away to somewhere that she would rather not be. In the wilderness. But for the next, according to the clock, ten minutes, Phoenix would be able to imagine herself in whichever fantasy she would want to be. She could be laying in a bed right now that was made specifically for a victor. Oh, yes a taste of victory would be so sweet. Or she could be a capitolite, with long blonde tresses that tumbled down to her toes, sitting upright with a chocolate covered strawberry in one hand, and a television remote in the other. She could be anywhere where she was now, laying underneath a comforter in a dark room, ten minutes away from being showered and dressed and sent into an arena with a bunch of people. Half of them males, mind you. But as she imagined the other realities, she knew that they couldn’t be hers, especially since the ceiling was indeed the ceiling she had last night, and was still in the situation she would end up being in anyway. She ran her hands down the seams of the comforter, her fingers meeting the knotting that was stitched into the silken comforter. How many dead people had once accompanied this beautiful thing, how many people had been sent to perish? It was something she considered for a good half a minute of her precious time alone. One of the last times alone she would ever have, most likely. She might have a sparse moment of freedom tucked behind a tree at one point, but then the camera’s might cut to a shot of her at some point. And with that, Phoenix Medona would no longer be an alone person. She was going to have to be someone with constant attention following her. Sure, she might feel alone, but she would never technically be alone.

Being alone, something Phoenix had despised months ago, whenever she was following Bear around, was now something she savored every last drop of, like if you were to take honey from a spoon or the last few moments before your alarm clock chimes out into the still darkness. When you give yourself two minutes to lay in bed even more, to be warm. Phoenix was perfectly still for a moment, trying to absorb the utter calm and quietness that filled her mind. Her hands were placed by her side, and her leg had fallen asleep sometime during the night, but the tingling in her foot and her arms by her side, she felt slightly secure, if only in a smug and slightly protective way. She was going to try to make this silence last forever, as long as she could. It was uncanny how at one time, Bear being silent had made Phoenix uneasy. But now, laying amongst the caramel sheets and fluffy pillows, she savored it’s feel of protection. Her head rested on a large pillow, and just about as she was about to doze off, she heard an odd noise that was followed by a clicking of locks and the shaking of a metal cart. Oh, the wonderful capitol bandwagon had arrived. Glorious.

A woman with red hair cut to her ears and large hoop earrings strode in, pushing a metal cart. It rattled slightly, indicating years of use, but for some reason, Phoenix could tell that the stylist liked older things. She was younger, yes, but she wore fishnets that were moth-eaten and an old sweater dress that had cut-out sleeves with tank tops layered under it. She snapped a piece of gum in her mouth and smiled a “sweetly sour” look in Phoenix’s direction. The smell of the gum had slowly taken over the room, filling it with pineapple and kiwi smells, making Phoenix’s stomach turn. She blinked twice, only to see the stylist look at her with large eyes and a slight look of “You don’t know who I am, do you?” On her face. She seemed to give off a sense of attitude towards the tribute who was still bed-bound, something along the lines of “….Seriously. Get out of bed! It’ll be funnnn.” Oh, Phoenix was already irritated with the stylist. Of course, it had been her second one, after her run-in with the red sandals and the other stylist…. Phoenix assumed this one was a backup stylist. Probably a younger school-age kid with talent, just not the certificates to back it up. So, they stuck the person with a backup position, and turns out, this one, with the red hair and giant earrings, got to be a stylist for the district six girl who honestly didn’t know how to do anything with weapons. Or, close to nothing, at least.

She slowly removed the sheets from her legs and propped herself up against the bed. Leaning on one arm, she slowly got up out of bed and balanced on the dresser. She was wearing a pair of pajama’s she had found in the dresser; a pair of purple cotton shorts and a purple polka dotted tank top with a stitched whale on it, though she found it childish. Gingerly stepping onto the carpet fully, she regained some form of balance and gave herself a nod of satisfaction. There we were. Standing on the plush carpeting, she looked at the stylist with amusement. She was drumming her red fingernails on the metal card, making the whole thing bang with noise. It was something of a drum pattern, Phoenix could tell, though she was cautious to ask if the stylist had any experience with musical instruments. Hell, she was going to make Phoenix look all pretty to go die… It’s not like she was going to share a common interest with Phoenix in patterns.

Oh, patterns were just lovely. Patterned motions had kept Phoenix rather discreet from the observations of Bear for quite some time. Doing the same thing over and over again made small things seem unusual, or at least until Bear became more observant, or Phoenix just plain screwed up. She finally just silenced the thought in her mind and continued to look at the stylist quietly. The person finally blinked at her, revealing black eyeshadow dotted with liquid eyeliner and made a lazy yawn back. Phoenix blinked back. This blinking went back and forth for a good two minutes, making sure that neither party was deprived of eye saliva. Finally, the stylist stopped drumming her fingernails on the metal and tossed a set of directions at Phoenix. “For the shower.” She said somewhat bored. “Go, wash up or something.” She tossed Phoenix a towel from the basket by the dresser and Phoenix hobbled over to the bathroom, where she pressed a purple button that sent something of a water. It was warm, and though steamy, felt good against her dry skin. She pressed a silver button that was indicated on the laminated sheet and shampoo landed on her head, smelling normally clean and like soap. She rubbed it in her hair, making sure that she smelled clean enough. The next button was another steam shower, followed by a conditioner that smelled like lilies. Another spray shower, a body wash that smelled like more soap and another rinse. The last button indicated a large spraying of lily smelling perfume all around her. As she stepped out of the haze of smells, hair was dried and the designer came in just in time for Phoenix to drape a towel around her.

The designer, who hadn’t cared to introduce herself quite yet, rolled her eyes and unzipped a dress bag with clothing on a wire hanger. She gave Phoenix a pair of underwear and a cropped tank top, and as Phoenix looked at her feet, she noticed that the toes were relatively odd in their shape. Ignoring this, she looked up at the designer who dressed her simply in a black tee shirt that clung to her body. Following the shirt was a purple sweatshirt, one of the ones that Gabe Saporta might wear way back. The white strings on it tangled amongst Phoenix’s hair, making her try to stand straighter to make sure that it would stay in place. Tangling was no good. The pants were khaki and somewhat cooling, and she felt like they were some of the best fitting clothes she had worn before. Black woolen socks and black shoes with a black belt came next, and Phoenix thought the whole thing was a little oddly colored. Shruggging, she nodded to herself and agreed to don the uniform. It wasn’t like she had a choice or anything, she was being forced to wear it.

Phoenix was took to the top of the building, her feet pounding on the wooden steps. She stood at the top of the capitol, it seemed. Helicopters swarmed around her, twenty four of them, to be exact. They just hovered there, doing nothing but loitering and waiting for the lowest levels to emerge to the top of the roof. Phoenix was ushered in the direction of a woman with green hair and black eyes, with endless pupils, it seemed. She giggled as she jabbed something in her arm, making Phoenix flinch. She wanted to say something along the lines of “Fuck you.” Or “Are you insane?” But, no. Phoenix looked at her arm. A tracker, it seemed. Something to track her progress through the arena. She was right. That time in bed had been her last truly alone moment. Her mind raced with the slight insanity. God, she was going to be tracked, by who knows who? Men? God. That was a scary thought. She shuddered and was put into one of the helicopters, which was fairly bare in detail. Wooden. There was a built in chair. Phoenix leaned slightly on the chair before trying to keep calm breaths to herself. Breathing in and out slowly, she tried to let the cold air of the helicopter fill her lungs. Stay. Calm. You must stay calm. She drew her legs up to her body, even though she wasn’t cold. Closing her eyes, she wished to be anywhere but here. In an arena of boys…. She shuddered, attempting to navigate her way mentally around the helicopter. Was there a way out? She scratched her clothes, making them make a slight noise. Her eyes flickered from one wall to the other, the unfinished wood making the whole situation seem even more hostile. They were basically putting her in an arena to be raped again. She was sure that every male in the arena was going to attempt to rape her. Yes, even the simple little twelve year old that was her district partner. She shuddered, the cold on her lips biting into them slightly. She ran her top teeth over the cold bottom lip, making the skin on the lip chip a little bit. She grasped her fingers together, entwining with the other ones. Her absolute terror seemed to come in the motions she had, slowly moving her hands and making her feet fall asleep only to revive them seconds later. These were the little things that kept her in a state of constant awareness. She tried to hum, but that failed when the tune became dark and dreary. Honestly, Phoenix was just trying to think of ways to distract herself from reality.

Finally, the helicopter landed slightly and she was lead out of it. She was lead out into a tunnel, then finally placed around a cornucopia. Phoenix had been told she had a minute of standing still. She clutched the string she had in her pocket, removing it for a second to observe it’s qualities. Red. Stringy. Other than that, it was simply an arena…. Well, it seemed harmless enough. From here, at least. You had the cornucopia placed in the center. Rocks to one side. A geyser filled with water to the other side. A valuable resource, she assumed. But after she looked that way, she suddenly got the feeling of…being watched. Oh, god. She was stuck in a contained area. With twelve males. She shuddered, her eyes adverted. No. No. No. NO. NONONONONO. Her mind seemed to scream at her to actually get away as quickly as she could. Get away from these people. Get away. Get away. Get Away. GET AWAY PHOENIX. That’s when Phoenix realized that wails were escaping her mouth. You’re acting like a blithering idiot, Phoenix. Avoid the men. And get what you need. Phoenix mentally curled into a ball, blinking. She knew that she was screwed. She was going to be raped. She was. She was. She could feel it in her eyes, she could feel it in her heart. She looked up at the cornucopia, her thought process interrupted by the large clattering of metal, and suddenly, Phoenix was a little bit…. Terrified? Yes, that was the word. And with that, Phoenix took off for the cornucopia like a banshee. [/blockquote][/blockquote]

Arrow
Merchant

[M:-750]

274 POSTS
last seen Jun 25, 2015 16:46:08 GMT -5

Free Hugs :3

The Bloodbath Feb 26, 2011 11:09:41 GMT -5

Post by Arrow on Feb 26, 2011 11:09:41 GMT -5

So here it began. The end of Nadene's life was bound to start here. She could see the golden horn rise up from the group and reveal itself to the sky. She could see the opening of the horn, and it spilling with goods. She was frozen to her plate, eyes scanning the area before her. All the tributes were ready, poised to attack. Nadene did not want to fight, but knew she had to. She wanted to just grab an item and run, but that was not the case. Even though she was fast, instinct was screaming at her that it would fail.

Nadene looked around for Themba, her district partner. She couldn't catch site of the boy. Nadene hadn't made any alliances, which was a disappointment now as she looked around. She should have while she had the chance. Never found Zuka in time. Maybe she would find her if they both got out of the bloodbath alive.

Heart pounding, Nadene took one last wistful look at back home, wishing she had stepped down. Her family would be crying as they watched her get a spear in the chest, or any other way to die in the arena. By now Nadene was sure she was not going to survive. But she would have to try anyways. You always have to try.

Then she thought about her new found friends. Even though she swore to never make friends again after loosing a friend in the arena, Ethan and Layla had become her first real friends in a long, long time. And she was reaped just after meeting them. Too soon after meeting them. Sometimes life could be a real bitchass.

Nadene grumbled, clinched her fists, and poised to be ready to dart out from her post towards the cornucopia. She bent down, one hand on her leg, ready to bolt like a lightning bolt when the gong sounded. She was going to fight now. Aim to take down an opponent. Nadene quivered, she was not the killing type, but she knew she must kill in order to survive. But she also needed to be sneaky and fast. GONG! With that noise echoing throughout the arena, Nadene shot towards the Cornucopia like the bullet that killed her brother.

Last Edit: Feb 26, 2011 11:11:28 GMT -5 by Arrow

GIFSoup

Trey.
Merchant

[M:-390]

124 POSTS
last seen Dec 19, 2013 21:08:54 GMT -5

Those who dare to fail miserably can achieve greatly. -John F. Kennedy

The Bloodbath Feb 26, 2011 11:10:53 GMT -5

Post by Trey. on Feb 26, 2011 11:10:53 GMT -5

[glow=purple,2,300]Azulon Cornoli

[glow=red,2,300]Azulon stared in amazement. It seemed nothing of what it looked like on T.V. Azulon looked over to the other tributes around him readying up. He saw the Cornucopia as always with its weapons. A sword? Was that a sword? "Its mine" as he chuckled. He kept thinking of home his mom dad and brother. They must be ripping their hair out

60 seconds
"What do I need"? As he thought. "Armour"....."Water"...."A sword"? "Maybe a bow"? He saw Evan far to his right. "That damn kid". He thought "he betrayed me". As Azulon started feeling bad about that Avox he pushed. It ruined his alliance.

50 seconds

As he was counting he also saw a vest? "Armour". He laughed out loud but suddenly got quiet. "I dont know me anymore". Usually he would be home watching the games cheering for the careers. Well now he messed his alliance up and did'nt have time to talk with those careers.

the clock struck 40

"Damn it" he thought I need a jug of water. He thought of his girl friend. Possibly crying her eyes out? "Im so sorry" He mumbles as he ticks the thirty in his head

30 seconds

As he thought of his flaws. "Pain" my main flaw "not good" he thought as he walked around on his metal plate staring down other tributes seeing if they are doing any interesting things.

20 seconds

"Ive betrayed my careers". I think "joining that kid Evan and that other kid.... Daniella"? "What am I doing"? "Talking about this when I need to think about my plan"!

10
first: I need a jug of water

9
second: i need my sword

8
third: I need to survive

7

fourth: I need to kill Evan and Daniella

6

fith:I need to survive this bloodbath

5
"Goodbye mom".

4

"Goodbye dad".

3

"Good bye Dakota my dear brother".

2

"Good bye world"

1

The Gong sounds as Azulon sprints off his plate to the Cornucopia for his sword[/glow]

Last Edit: Feb 26, 2011 17:53:51 GMT -5 by Trey.

I give full credit to Shrimp for this amazing sig.

I give full credit to Frida for this amazing sig.

Rosetta
Retired Staff

1,872 POSTS
last seen Aug 5, 2020 8:28:28 GMT -5

The Bloodbath Feb 26, 2011 11:24:00 GMT -5

Post by Rosetta on Feb 26, 2011 11:24:00 GMT -5

Maia Grayson

Today's the day.

The first words that popped into Maia's head as she awoke. Today was the day. The Games began today. Excitement brimming in her stomach, she slipped out from under the covers. Toes lightly skimming the carpet, Maia yawned and stretched her arms high above her head. She listened for the satisfying crack in her tense joints. She knew she should probably stretch, loosening her muscles. Bending down, Maia stretched her leg out far and straight, clutching her ankle. She smiled at the burning feeling in her leg, and hastily went to do the other. Maia loved that feeling, the burning sensation when one stretches. It was an odd feeling to enjoy, but Maia loved it. It gave her sense that something was happening. It was reassuring. However, before she could do more, Mitchie, her stylist, inched into the room.

"Hey darling," she purred, with a golden-toothed grin. She seemed weary, not yet as wide awake, but still she was dressed as flashy as possible, causing Maia to squint. "Today's the day!"

"Read my mind," Maia muttered back, slightly annoyed Mitchie had come so soon. These could be the last moments she has alone. Alone as in left to her thoughts, and no obnoxious people getting in her way. Casting her eyes downward, she followed Mitchie out of the room, still in her nightgown. Her excitement was almost immediately replaced by nerves as soon as she stepped from the room. Today was the day...today she would go into the Arena and fight for her life...Pushing that from her mind, Maia went up the roof with Mitchie. The air was cold, sliding over her skin, and raising the hairs on the back of her neck. Silently, a large, dark hovercraft appeared in the sky, landing on the roof beside them. Mitchie took her arm and lead her into the hovercraft that would bring them to the Arena. She cast one last look at the vibrant Capitol, twinkling in her eyes, and finally at the dark sky, few stars winking at her before going into the humming hovercraft. The windows were blacked out, and it heightened her sense of anxiety just looking in that general direction.

Bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, Mitchie tried to coax food down Maia's throat, urging her it would do her good. She knew it too, but Maia still swallowed with much difficulty, her stomach now churning. She did not want her food to make a reappearance in the Arena... She wondered if her family was up yet. Of course they were. The first day of the Games was like a holiday. They woke up early, and gathered in the family room, grinning. Sometimes, they even made bets. Who'd win...who'd die first...who'd be decapitated...who'd cry...it was all fun and games then, no one to worry about but themselves. Now, it had to be different. Perhaps they were placing those bets, but hoping fate would be kind, and keep Maia from such horrid ends. And maybe they still didn't believe in her at all, and bets were not placed in her favor. Not even in her household, perhaps among the entire District...and maybe even the Capitol.

The thought sent chills up and down her back. Having no one who believed her. People needed someone to believe in them, as much as they needed someone to believe in. It was a circle, but once left without those elements, it's like falling. Falling into a thick, empty darkness. Because there was just nobody there to catch you. Maia didn't want that. No one did. There had to be someone out there. And she believed in herself, didn't she? You got this, she told herself over and over as they landed, and she was brought into the catacombs of the Arena. Mitchie waited, eagerly, as Maia showered. The water hit her skin and slid off, doing little to soothe her. Finally, unable to take it any longer, Maia got out, her hair still a nest. Mitchie pursed her lips at the sight of her, brandishing a comb. Forced to sit, Maia winced at Mitchie worked through the tangles, commenting on the different lengths of her hair, before she pulled in back into a ponytail. Maia put on his District token. It was a simple necklace, made from petrified wood. The mayor himself had given it to her. At first she’d been flattered, but then she realized he was most likely just obliged to give tokens to kids who didn’t have anything. They probably had a whole stash of would-be tokens in the Justice Building. Her parents hadn’t given her a thing. Finally her clothes arrived, and Mitchie helped her dress.

There would be no make up this time. No dresses. No "ooh"s from Mitchie. Today, Maia was just Maia...dressed in simple clothes, similar to what she'd wear to training. Running shoes, a t-shirt, cargo pants. A Training outfit. Except this wasn't training. This was the real deal. Suddenly, Maia was filled with butterflies, the saliva sliding down her throat making her stomach queasy, and her heart skipping beats. Mitchie was chattering away, but Maia was miles away. Strategy. She needed a strategy. Her father had run through enough of them, but now they had all dribbled away, through her fingers like sand. She was completely lost, her head aching from all the mush trying to form thoughts, but failing.

"It's time!" Mitchie squealed, as an intercom overhead informed them to prepare for launch. The steel plate on the floor looked cold and uninviting, but she stepped onto it anyway. Mitchie swooped down and kissed her on both cheeks, causing Maia to wince. "Good luck, my lovely!" The Capitol woman giggled, foolishly, making Maia want to strangle her. Save that for the Arena, she told herself.

A clear glass sheet slid over Maia, separating herself from Mitchie, who flashed her thumbs-up. Looking away from her, Maia licked her lips, taking slow, deep breaths. The plate lurched upward, and legs trembling, Maia’s hands curled into fists. Here we go…The first ray of sunshine temporarily blinded her, and she blinked, before adjusting. The golden Cornucopia blinked at her, and she could see items piled high all around it. Her fingers itched to grab one, hold it in her hand, and do whatever she could.

She could almost hear her sixty seconds ticking away, and Maia situated herself ready to run. Not glancing at any of the other tributes, her eyes darted about, taking in the surroundings. In the distance, she could see something…a mountain rising in the air…and also directly past the Cornucopia, a stone structure. Sweat was glistening on Maia’s face, and she hastily wiped it away.

45 seconds…

Maia cursed whoever thought of dressing the tributes in black…the heat was starting to get to her…

30 seconds…

Look at all those weapons, she thought, her hands twitching once more.

15 seconds…

“Small chance…” Shut up, Valora, Maia told her mind…but the words were still there. Small chance…

10 seconds…

Any moment now…

5 seconds…

Her heart was beating, rapidly.

GONG!

Maia took off at a sprint.

^^Made by the excellent Shrimp!

Morgana
District Mayor

771 POSTS
last seen May 25, 2015 9:32:54 GMT -5

<3

The Bloodbath Feb 26, 2011 11:32:52 GMT -5

Post by Morgana on Feb 26, 2011 11:32:52 GMT -5

Enigma Lane

I wish we were older.

Today is the day. The day I go into the arena. The day I will quite possibly die. And for some reason, death doesn’t scare me. I’ve been to the detention center, I’ve seen the horrors there. I’ve even experienced some for myself. But a broken wrist is nothing to cry over. The doctors at the Capitol fixed it up quite quickly after I arrived.

I'm not afraid of dying. There are better things to be afraid of. Like dying slowly and in pain. Like falling in love in the arena. Something I plan not to do. No matter how much the sight of Zack makes my heart leap, or how hard he can make me laugh. He is my District Partner, and he is the other half of my alliance. That's it. I swear, nothing more.

Laying in my bed on this final morning, I can't say any silent goodbyes. I don't have anyone or anything to say goodbye to. Mother and father haven't meant anything to me for a while. They're just people that live in my house and provide the money for my food. I clean their house and make their food. We don't talk. We don't do "family" things. At best, I'm their maid now. Or, I was. I didn't have anything at home that I was particularly attached to. Everything I have left to say goodbye to will be going in that arena with me today. All I have left is Zack, and Lainey's voice.

I've been laying in bed for a while, not ready to get up, when my stylist comes in. I never attempted to get close to her. We don't talk. And now is not the time to start. She's one of the older stylists, and it's made painfully obvious by the unnatural lack of wrinkles on her face. Her eyes are old, she moves like she's old, but she has absolutely no wrinkles. Honestly, I don't understand why Capitolites think no wrinkles equals beautiful. It doesn't. It equals you look like a freak.

She pushes me toward the shower with no directions, no words. Fine, then. I jab at random buttons, hoping to end up with some strange combination of smells, just to make my stylist mad. A brownish button, then a light yellow one. The scent of pineapples engulfs me, followed shortly by a blast of cinnamon. Okay, I think that's weird enough. I stay in the shower just a little too long, so my stylist won't have time to do my hair. When I emerge, she's tapping her foot on the floor. She thrusts out a hand holding a bundle of clothes. I take them, untangling the garments from each other. I slip on the black t-shirt. It fits me perfectly, hugging my curves. The cargo pants are just a bit too big, but I guess that's why they include a belt. The clothes this year seem warm, so I wonder if they're sending us into a snow-filled arena. Wool socks, sweatshirt...Must be somewhere cold.

Before I let my stylist touch my hair, I grab my token off my bedside table. It's the same one Lainey brought with her when she was in the Games. I trace the cold metal with a finger before slipping it inside my pocket. People must think it's strange that someone from District Eight has a tree-related token. Lainey got it on our eighth birthday. Our parents knew how much she liked climbing trees, so they got her a little token with a tree on it. I don't remember ever seeing her without it when she was alive. I hope it'll keep her close to me. I'm a bit nervous, since she hasn't spoken to me yet today. All the days in training, Lainey was there, a voice in my head giving me advice.

My stylist just barely has time to run a brush through my hair before we hear the helicopters alighting on the roof. She gives a sigh of exasperation, then whips my hair into a pony. She does it so fast, pulling the hair so tight that tears spring to my eyes.

Once I'm in the helicopter, someone jabs a needle into my arm, planting a tracker inside of me. Then I settle in for the ride and what are sure to be my last moments of sanity. We arrive at the arena far too quickly. The next thing I know, I'm standing a little metal plate, staring out at this year's arena. The cornucopia stands tall, shining bright and golden under the sun. I can see a field of rocks, and off in another direction, a hulking stone masterpiece. It calls to me. But I also see a mountain of some sort, with a heavy cloud over it. A volcano, I realize. And then the countdown begins.

60 seconds...

Run as fast as you can, Niggy. Get a weapon. Get a bag and some bandages, then get out of there.

50 seconds...

I nod my head. "Of course, Lainey. Whatever you say."

40 seconds...

And don't forget your alliance.

30 seconds...

"I'd never forget him."

20 seconds...

And Niggy?

10 seconds...

"What?"

GONG!

Good Luck.

[/center][/color][/size][/blockquote][/justify]

peanutpie

guest

The Bloodbath Feb 26, 2011 11:35:40 GMT -5

Post by peanutpie on Feb 26, 2011 11:35:40 GMT -5

Phoenix took off running, her feet hitting the dirt on the ground silently. Her mind raced with adrenaline, but mostly to flee from the twelve boys that were on something of a rampage to chase her down. Of course, the men that were in the arena were just as bloodthirsty as she was, but when they caught up to her.... God, that would be immediate torture. She would be nearly rape, and if rape were to happen again.... Sobs escaped her throught as she scaled along the edges of the arena. She grasped her fists together and looked around her. Both district two tributes were by her, and as she looked around her, she felt screwed. Seriously, if two career tributes caught up to her... She would most likely die. A district seven was behind her, who she pondered for a while, trying to run as quickly as she could.

Her feet hit the mud in splatters, sending large clumps of brown against the hem of her pants. Her hair fell behind her as she attempted to find something amongst the people to fight for. For not being raped would be the first one, though she wasn't quite sure with that one. Sure, peoples priorities might be twisted and that sex and making someone feel terrified were ahead of surivival basics, but Phoenix could see the impulsive point of view if she really thought about it. But right at that moment, she just ran the fastest that she could across the field. She honestly felt fear towards the people trailing behind her. She looked behind, her eyes glazing over slightly. It was so freaking hot out, she was already sweating. Her forehead was already leaking little droplets of water and her feet had already started to stink. Woolen socks were not good in high tempetures like these. Phoenix then, in her desperation, attacked someone. Out of the blue.

(Attacks Azulon)
Unarmed: [dice=200+5000]
Bruised Left hand (2 damage)

Phoenix gave the person a bruised hand, something she was quite proud of. He was a career, anyway. She smiled in satisfaction and plucked a hatchet from the pile, thinking it might make a pleasant enough weapon. She held its handle in her arm. Then she realized something. She had attacked a man.

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Last Edit: Feb 26, 2011 11:37:39 GMT -5 by peanutpie

Trey.
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Those who dare to fail miserably can achieve greatly. -John F. Kennedy

The Bloodbath Feb 26, 2011 11:39:09 GMT -5

Post by Trey. on Feb 26, 2011 11:39:09 GMT -5

[glow=red,2,300]Azulon... still sprinting to the cornucopia. Looking for a sword to grab. He tripped over a empty jug of water. He fell with a thud. "Damn it"! He kept on running. When he reached the cornucopia he looked for a sword. He was still looking until he realized he had to run and grab something. He fumbled for what seemed hours when he stopped. "Shit im dead out of time looks like I'll be using my hands"

He ran back to watch the other tributes at the cornucopia trying to spot out his sword. "Damn"! "Still no luck what so ever". He shouted "I gotta get a weapon before they take all of the good ones"! He ran back over to the cornucopia grabbing for a weapon. He attacked the nearest person Unarmed:[[Attacks Phoenix [unarmed] ]] [dice=200+5000]
[2 damage]"so I bruised her left arm"? As Azulon ran over to grab a longsword[/glow][rand=0508053068706812445781191631188418459225078918868323213795212546373]

Last Edit: Feb 26, 2011 12:08:42 GMT -5 by Trey.

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The Bloodbath Feb 26, 2011 11:54:40 GMT -5

Post by Bane on Feb 26, 2011 11:54:40 GMT -5

Karl Miller of District 3

[/u][/center]

The hovercraft ride had been long, and very dull. The voice hadn't decided to mess with me, which was a bonus, but I didn't care for my stylist enough to talk to him. He had just put me in a plain suit for everything, then didn't encourage me at all. He had really been rather despondent the whole time, including now as we stepped into the last room I would see in a while, most likely the last room I'll ever see.

My stylist hands me a pile of clothes, and I put them on. Cargo pants, a black tee shirt, and a purple sweatshirt go over my body, and on my feet are black socks and shoes. I shudder, thinking this is going to be a cold environment. District 3 is usually warm because of the factories, so I'm not used to harsh exposure to cold. Black absorbs heat, so that means they are trying to keep us warm.

After a few minutes, I'm directed to step onto my plate. Right before I do, my stylist suddenly steps over and hugs me, then quickly walks over to the couch in the room and sits down, ignoring me. I blink a bit, but then my plate is rising and I don't have time to wonder.

What will it be like? Probably cold. I'm thinking it's probably not going to be very small, although I'm not sure why I think this. The thing I'll probably notice most, is how deadly it is. Of course the place is going to be full of mutts trying to eat us, or just kill us, or try to scare us. The eating and killing are the more likely though.

My head finally rises above the surface of the ground, and I don't have to wonder anymore. For a moment I'm blinded by the bright sun, but my eyes adjust and I begin to look around in wonder. Directly to his front was a huge geyser, shooting water and steam hundreds of feet into the air. Off to my left his a huge stone pillar, seemingly just standing there. To my right is what seems to be a plain field, covered in rocks. Beyond the geyser, the monolith, and the rock field are areas that I can't see, but directly behind me is a huge mountain and a forest.

At first, I feel alright about my surroundings, but then I realize something. We're all wearing dark clothes, in an extremely sunny place. I may be used to heat, but not the kind that radiates of you clothes. A shiver passes through me involuntarily. Suddenly Claudius Templesmith's voice rings out across the landscape. "Let the 57'th annual Hunger Games begin!" No one steps off their plate of course, waiting for the gong. The gong that will kill many of us, letting out the cold blooded killers. Of which I may be one...

My heart is pounding from the minute I here Claudius's voice. This is no place to be. I'm going to die. There's no escape. I feel my grip on reality slipping, trying to twist away, to stop me from doing what I want. Desperately I clutch at it, keeping myself in control. If I lose it, then my chances will lower. I try to come up with a plan, but my mind is blank. Blanker than it has ever been before. I always can come up with a plan.

This time though, I'm to weak, afraid, and angry at the Capitol to care about a plan very much. They put us in hear and butcher us like cattle, but they do it for their own enjoyment. Nothing good comes of it. We are killed, stopping what amount of production we were able to give, hurting are friends and families, breeding a sense of hatred. The Hunger Games do nothing, except feed their sick idea of entertainment. Eventually my thoughts turn from the Capitol to trying to think of a plan. Unfortunately, someone has other ideas than me coming up with the plan.

Since you have control, then you will fight. You will fight! This is the voice. It screams and shouts in my head, drowning out everything else. I try to shove it off, reminding it that I'll die. I'll stop bugging you when you agree to fight! I hear the gong ring, and as if in a dream begin to stagger towards the Cornucopia. The voice stops yelling, trying to give me tips on how to stand when I come across someone and am forced to fight. How it learned this, I don't know. I just begin to follow it's instructions.

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The Bloodbath Feb 26, 2011 11:58:12 GMT -5

Post by aya on Feb 26, 2011 11:58:12 GMT -5

Admin OOC - Trey, you have to include an unarmed attack (that is [*dice=200+5000] minus the asterisk) against another tribute in your post in order to get the longsword. Make sure you specify who you are attacking.
{Note that this post does NOT count towards the three-posts-between-attaks total}

[/blockquote]

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The Bloodbath Feb 26, 2011 12:00:40 GMT -5

Post by Arrow on Feb 26, 2011 12:00:40 GMT -5

With anger coursing through her veins for no reason, Nadene bolted. She was running straight for a switchblade when she discovered another tribute standing her her way. She couldn't tell who it was at all. Nadene's adrenaline was coursing through her veins now. She needed to make a good and quick decision. IF she waited too long she might be killed.

So, Nadene decided to attack the tribute in front of her quickly. Just try enough to get him, yes, it was a him, out of her way. IF she tried anything else she might loose herself. She might die in the bloodbath, which to her, was a disgrace. It showed weakness to die in the bloodbath, in her opinion. She was going to attack the boy in front of her, and not have second thoughts.
(Attacks Azulon)
Unarmed: [dice=200+5000]
Miss. 0.0

the force of Nadene's attack sent her stumbling forwards, happily close to what she was attacking the boy for in the first place- a swithblade, which just might help her. Nadene soon realized that she had missed the boy, which sent her falling forwards.[rand=38614918531203299401572812519354385015616866128734805911523358105]

Last Edit: Feb 26, 2011 12:03:27 GMT -5 by Arrow

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The Bloodbath Feb 26, 2011 12:10:27 GMT -5

Post by peanutpie on Feb 26, 2011 12:10:27 GMT -5

Phoenix was still in shock from.... She was in shock. Still. She had touched a man. And she was absolutley terrified. A man, who perhaps wanted to rape her. She shuddered, her eyes looking down at the ground. What in the hell was she supposted to know? What was she? She held the hatchet in her left hand, grasping the wooden handle. It was slightly slick and had been coated in something that felt like jelly. She held it carefully between her palm and her fingers, making sure it was stable enough for anything. She rolled it between her two hands as she breathed heavily, adverting her eyes to the side of her. The slick handle was quite intresting between her fingers, and as she cradled the axe in her hands, she thought about it thorroughly.

Honestly. It was quite tragic that Phoenix resorted to being so... violent. Espeically towards.... men. A sob escaped her mouth as she recalled waking up on the forest floor after the incident. She had been askew, and tears just like now were on her cheeks, staining them with an intresting saltiness. Of course, salty foods and such had never been her favorite, so the tears on her face were sticky and unhappy. She brought her right hand up to her face. The bruised arm she had aquired didn't hurt that much, and she could tell that she was doing fine as is. She had a bruise forming on her arm, but who really cared? She was going to make it out alive. She went for the boy she had hurt before

(Attacks Azulon)
Axe: [dice=200+11000]
Shallow cut on left shoulder (3.5 damage)

Phoenix dodged for a bag, grasping is and throwing it over her arm. It was like a tote bag, almost.

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Last Edit: Feb 26, 2011 12:11:54 GMT -5 by peanutpie

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The Bloodbath Feb 26, 2011 12:12:11 GMT -5

Post by sbeeg on Feb 26, 2011 12:12:11 GMT -5

Zack Detroff

After all the restless nights back home and the long hours staring at the ceiling in the Capitol, the night before the Arena was the best gift Zack could get. He slept all the way through it and woke up with a refreshed feeling he hand't had in years. Nerves did not grip his muscles as he showered and he was not scared as he presented himself to his stylist.

She was an older woman with tye-dyed skin faded with age. Her hair was completely, snow white and her face was caked with make-up. In her thin fingers she held his outfit that he'd wear through the Games. The last clothes he'll ever wear. His stylist was a woman of few words and just handed him the clothes and left him to change alone. Black shirt, khaki pants, wool socks, a belt, black shoes and a purple hoodie. Zack tugged the hoodie around his frame, he loved purple, it was the color of the sky just after the sun set, and the color of a person's face when you choke off their air and let them suffocate.

Still calm, Zack was loaded in the helicopter, his hands hugging around his middle, protecting his hoodie from anyone who looked at him wrong. He passed the fabric through his fingers. Home. The people back home made this. Zack closed his eyes and tried to think of what District Eight looked like. He couldn't remember. One week away from the place he spent sixteen years and Zack Detroff forgot what it looks like.

They stabbed him in the arm with a needle, mumbling something about a tracking device. Zack wasn't really listening, he was thinking about Enigma. His little piece of home away from home. Well, she wasn't the only thing from home- the clothes were and his token. Zack rolled the beads between his thumb and forefinger but couldn't remember what his house looked like.

The fact that adrenaline did not course through his veins was something Zack found a little odd. His limbs were still and his mind was clear. Aren't tributes supposed to be terrified?

They took Zack into the "launch room" and made him stand on the plate. Still nothing. No nerves or fear or anything! Zack shut his eyes and didn't open them until he felt his plate click into place. It was all so much to take in in one minute. The Cornucopia in front of him then, beyond it was a mountain. Zack's heart leaped, this was his element. Flat land for running, mountains for climbing, weapons for the taking- he might survive today.

Zack looked through the tributes faces until he spotted a taller girl about five kids away from him. Enigma.

Zack didn't feel like telling jokes now. The seriousness of the Games had covered him in the small package of a purple hoodie and he felt like a real tribute for the first time.

30 seconds

His feet were posed to run, his hands ready to knock out anyone who got in his way.

20 seconds

Enigma, if anyone made a move at her, he'd kill him. He'd watch until their faces turned purple.

10 seconds

Zack glued his eyes to the Cornucopia and was ready to run, ready to fight, ready to become everything he was not.

GONG!

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The Bloodbath Feb 26, 2011 12:20:09 GMT -5

Post by Trey. on Feb 26, 2011 12:20:09 GMT -5

[glow=red,2,300]Azulon pissed off again. Got up and looked at Phoenix. "Damn she has an axe". "Well i have a long sword to kill her with. Azulon looked over at the other tribute who had missed. "Pathetic attack" he mumbled as he charged toward Phoenix with his long sword
[[Attacks Phoenix with long sword]]
Sword: [dice=200+1000]

[Deep gash on right bicep 8.0 damage]

"Hehe" Azulon mumbled "that will teach you to mess with me". He felt proud[/glow][rand=69377042634321032735923742342180698173675690265986651588455635553]

Last Edit: Feb 26, 2011 12:22:10 GMT -5 by Trey.

I give full credit to Shrimp for this amazing sig.

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The Bloodbath Feb 26, 2011 12:20:13 GMT -5

Post by Bane on Feb 26, 2011 12:20:13 GMT -5

Karl Miller of District 3

[/u][/center]
Stepping towards the Cornucopia, I could see blood was already being shed. Stopping in awe, I was surprised that people who had been nice to each other could now become so violent. They were honestly trying to kill each other. Soon I would also be trying to kill someone...

You're not going to chicken out this fast, are you? Gritting my teeth, I run across the dusty plain to the worst of the melee, near the Cornucopia. In the bright sun, the gold flashes and almost seems to glow. In its surface is reflected the entire battle, all the punches and blades. It's beautiful, in a sick, bloody way. For a moment I slow down, mesmerized, but the voice quickly gets me moving again.

Looking at the combatants, I try to tell who I'd almost be willing to fight. No one comes to mind. I didn't really do anything to anyone, and no one did anything to me, during our week in the Training Center.

Finally, I just attack, hoping the voice will stop tormenting me. I throw a punch, then start scampering away.

(attacks Azulon)
Unarmed: [dice=200+5000]
(Tripped, 0.5 damage)

As I get a little away from the person I attacked, I come across a broadsword. It takes most of my strength to lift, but I manage to.

[/blockquote][/color][/size][rand=97210095287803637075296160482399568521695984304221756330334424867]

Last Edit: Feb 26, 2011 12:20:58 GMT -5 by Bane

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