68th Reaping [D12]

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Lulu
Retired Staff

[M:2982250]

3,114 POSTS
last seen Nov 24, 2023 13:45:22 GMT -5

68th Reaping [D12] Sept 19, 2014 23:47:52 GMT -5

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Post by Lulu on Sept 19, 2014 23:47:52 GMT -5

The escort of the district stepped out onto the stage, a smile plastered across his face as he stared into the cameras that surrounded it. It was time once again to choose two children to compete in the Hunger Games, and it was his job to do so.

"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, "Emery Willton!" He then reached into the other ball. "Troy Williams!"

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, September 23rd, 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.

{lulu's cast}

Arrows
Retired Staff

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last seen May 23, 2023 16:50:31 GMT -5

your resident blonde bisexual boy

68th Reaping [D12] Sept 20, 2014 1:11:08 GMT -5

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Post by Arrows on Sept 20, 2014 1:11:08 GMT -5

E M E R Y
W I L L T O N

D I S T R I C T
12

◼ Ⅱ ▸

Climax, a moment within a story from which you can never go back. It was a moment that defines the height of the rising actions. Yet for Emery it was a moment in which she could never go back, but also the beginning of her rising actions. It was a thing she had never had to encounter from behind the shell of her parents. Her climax was one that she never could have believed would take it's claim on her. A young fourteen year old girl from district twelve who couldn't kill a thing. Yet that was how the world worked, in cruel twisted ways.

Early this chosen day she had awoken within the warmth of her bed to the twinkling sun dancing lightly across her face. Emery rose from her bed with sleep still dragging on her dull eyes. She knew that today was the one day she feared most of all. It was a day that caused her chest to shake with the thunderous beating of her terrified heart. She would have to be revealed from the shadows of her house to stand in the square facing possible death in the eyes. Even now she was shaking and had not yet left home.

Just then her mother ventured softly into her room and looked at her with eyes nearly brimming with tears. Emery swiftly leaped from bed and wrapped her frail arms around her mother. Emery could hear the sweet thumping of her mother's kind heart as her head rested softly upon her chest. Her mother's hands flowed gently through Emery's hair and Emery longed for this moment to continue but eventually it stopped. Her mother stepped back and after composing herself says nearly inaudibly, "Go take a bath and get ready I will lay out a dress and shoes for you now." Emery nodded and then without another word vanished from her room.

The bath was already warm and waiting for her as she slid carefully in allowing the water to warp around her. She took a deep breath as she submerged below the thin surface. There she stayed her mind drifting like the water around her. For all she knew she would never see this place again, never see her mom, dad, or brother again. Although her parents insist it won't be her, she still holds her doubts. She knows that no one is ever safe from the Reaping, it takes who it pleases. Destroys the life of those it wants to, ultimately it cannot be contained. In the end, the Capitol will have its tributes one way or another. Now Emery could physically feel her head spinning and burst out of the tub gasping for air. She was completely unsure of how long she was under but it didn't matter she was bathed now anyway.

As Emery returned to her room she discovered her mother was gone and her outfit was indeed laid out for her. Emery smiled at its simplicity, a simple purple dress with small black flats. It took her only moments to get it all on. Now was the truly hard part, what to do with her matted hair. After several ponderous moments she revealed a small brush from under her bed and brushed her hair. Only did she stop when it seemed straight and manageable did she put on a small purple ribbon. It was then she saw that time had ticked away and it was nearly two, which meant the Reaping was around the corner. With one last longing look at her room she hustled downstairs and said her final farewells. Her mother was once again brimming with tears while her father's face looked grave and white. It pained her to have to leave them, but today she had no choice. With a wink to her young brother she gave him a quick hug then whisked herself to the square.

It all was so repetitive to Emery now that when the Reaping actually started she wasn't even paying the slightest bit of attention. All she could focus on was the nervous actions of the girls that surrounded her on every side. Some biting their nails, some shaking, but Emery just stood still as a statue with her gazed fixed on a place locked far, far away. Then something odd occurred that brought her back to reality, all the girls were looking at her. She was baffled as to why they would look at her until she heard her name spoken again over the loud speaker. Now Emery shook as she made her way through the rows of relieved girls, just to reach the stage which would project her most certain death. As she mounted the stage and the asking for volunteers came and clearly passed she say her family. They were all crying now especially her mother, Emery too could feel her tears beginning to spill. She didn't care if the world saw her cry, they didn't have to face what she had to. Also she might as well let them think she is weak, maybe it would help her win. Then a hard fact hit her, there is no way she could win these games. Yet she had to try right...

template by chelsey

{OOC- Emery Willton Accepts Her Position As The D12f Tribute}

Last Edit: Sept 20, 2014 1:12:25 GMT -5 by Arrows

Graphic by the Breathtakingly Talented Stare

Kire
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68th Reaping [D12] Sept 20, 2014 1:22:53 GMT -5

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Post by Kire on Sept 20, 2014 1:22:53 GMT -5

△ ▷ ◁ △ ▷ ◁ △ ▷ ◁ △ ▷ ◁

T R O Y W I L L I A M S

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Says, Thinks

Today was the day my heart stopped.

I got ready for the reaping as I normally did, ushered along like a pig to slaughter - the thought was almost comically accurate, but that very fact kept it from amusing me - by the man who always rushed us about. The woman who ran the orphanage wasn't fond of shepherding, and I can't say I blame her, so she left this poor bastard to keep us ducks in a row. It was chaos, and while I could have aided him with the younger kids I was far too worried about my own problems to bother. Not to mention that the longer we took to get there the more time I had to hide from those giant glass balls and their paper slips.

Even the time I scrounged up wasn't enough to steady me, and it never was, so I walked almost drunkenly to the the square. Adrenaline pumped through my veins more fiercely than the electricity through the fence - not that that was on very often but the premise was still there - causing me to jolt like I was being struck. It was not easy to walk like this and yet I manage it every year.

My sweaty palms were about to bleed, what with my fingernails pressed so deep into them, and already my hands were growing too stiff to unclench them. Tonight I would have sore hands, and for the rest of the week most likely. It was not a fun prospect, but at least I would be able to keep them.

When the escort took the stage, standing like a judge about to give a sentence - which he was, in truth, and the sentence was always death - waiting for the tension to build higher, I nearly collapsed from the near overdose of adrenaline that flooded through me. It couldn't end too soon, but it did.

The girl was not someone I recognized, though her last name was so similar to mine that a cold spike drove itself through my heart. Not a moment later, it happened again, only this time it was worse.

"Troy Williams!"

Dread replaced the adrenaline and I was frozen to the ground where I stood. The icy spike in my chest retreated for a moment only to implant itself in my stomach, twisting my gut into a frozen knot. I'm going to die, it was the only thing in my mind. I'm going to die, I'm going to fucking die.

Right as I was about to die on the spot - no arena for me, I would pass on in my own District and see what the Capitol would do then - a voice broke through the buzzing in my ears.

"I volunteer."

My eyes rolled into the back of my head as I fainted, not feeling the ground as it rushed up to greet me. I wasn't sure whether it was the release of tension or the all-consuming relief that caused me to pass out, but all I really cared about was the fact that I wasn't going to die.

Not in an arena anyway.

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Troy Williams steps down from his position as Tribute.

♦ ✦ ◆ ♦ ✦ ◆ ♦ ✦ ◆ ♦ ✦ ◆

J I M D E E R

♦ ✦ ◆ ♦ ✦ ◆ ♦ ✦ ◆ ♦ ✦ ◆

Says, Thinks

I wasn't as devilishly handsome today as I normally was, stress dragging at my features until the creases on my forehead stayed no matter how often I tried to rub them away. Even still, I knew I held onto my natural charm. Tracing the faint stubble of my jaw, I probably should have shaved before this, I twisted my head to numerous different angles to make sure the affect was satisfying. It was well enough, but I made a mental note that I needed to start shaving more often - somehow a smooth face seemed to suit me more.

I didn't dress in anything special, it would have only made my slightly scruffy appearance even more awkward than it already was and I couldn't risk that. Jeans and a magically non-wrinkled shirt were good enough. It was my last reaping, what did I care anymore. My parents never bothered to see me well laid out, and I'm sure they wouldn't care now. Shrugging to myself, I left home and tried to look as confident and cool as I could. I'm never sure if I actually manage it.

The amount of attention I paid to the reaping was just about zip. I would recognize my own name if I heard it - doubt that would happen - and I didn't know much of anyone in the District so there wasn't a point in wasting effort focusing. Not until I noticed this year's unlucky victim anyway. He was obviously not from a well-off life, and if possible he looked even worse than most of the people around. It didn't help that he looked frozen stiff - he didn't just look it, he was - and for once it actually gave me a reason to focus.

It was my last year being eligible, the last time I might get away from my District and see another part of Panem - even if it was only to go off and die - so hell I may as well take it. Ripred knows that guy would die right off, may as well at least save him that. It was clear he wasn't going to make a move so I made my intentions clear. "I volunteer." People around me all took a step back like I was suddenly infected with a sort of disease. I had just done something profound and it had only earned me scared glances and expressions that screamed "don't let me catch what he's got." Typical District twelve. But to hell with all of it, I was on my way out.

The boy I had just saved crumpled to the ground, leaving me to shrug and walk onto the stage. Before the escort even had to ask what my name was I was already talking.

"The name's Jim Deer, and someone tell that kid he's welcome."

♦ ✦ ◆ ♦ ✦ ◆ ♦ ✦ ◆ ♦ ✦ ◆

Jim Deer volunteers as Tribute.