The Bloodbath

ghosty
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The Bloodbath Jun 13, 2015 8:21:50 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ghosty on Jun 13, 2015 8:21:50 GMT -5

The morning before the games is the worst time in my life. Knowing that in that morning, anything can happen, and it could be the last morning in your life. That everything will change in about 5 hours. I'll no longer be a person, but a number on a screen, the odds on a betting sheet. That's all I am going to be, except to Sam, and Momma, and everyone else who'll be in the Arena. In there, we'll all be people, morphed with the monsters that the Capitol want us to be, be the happy little tribute who'll made the gamemakers ratings go sky rocketing through the roof. And if I want to do that is still unsure in my mind. Try and make everyone like me in the arena, be a troublemaker and set traps and cause chaos to everyone not allied with me.

But alliances can never stay together, not until the end. Just like Sam said. Cos everyone wants to get home again, to go back to their home district, see their family again. I know that I do, want to feel Sam's arms around me again, to feel the embrace of someone who loves me, not seeing the tactical advantage of me against someone else who they could ally with. Back to where manners that I was taught are some use to me again. Where common sense is in charge of everything. And despite the fear of the arena and all the careers coming to get me, I'm looking forward to getting out, and able to get a couple of steps closer to Ten.

Even when the hovercraft comes to take me to my likely death, I almost savour the butterflies inside my stomach. And I'm convinced that the confidence that I feel is for Sam, not for me. Formed in my heart to protect my mind from snapping like a twig underfoot. Because the second that I'm in there, I know that all hell will break loose, and something will break. Maybe bones, definitely life. And quite probably my head. Hopefully it won't, that I'll still have everything Sam told me in my head. Have every important memory guiding me through the next week and a bit. I trust Ripred that they will. I trust Ripred to make it past at least the bloodbath, the wall of death that greets us all. Some become part of the wall, and others are running from the wall. And some, are crushed by the wall. I want to be in the second group. I'm not suited for the first, and not prepared for option 3. And then, the tube begins to rise, and the arena that could as well be my grave comes into view.

And it's literally a desolate wasteland, mixed with a touch of gold. Everyone else is here, everyone wanting to kill everyone, just so one person can go home. And as the voice counts down, towards blood and anger and chaos, I spot Geo, and Gabrielle and Tybalt in ring of tributes. I want to gravitate towards them, towards the people that I trust, I know. I wave goodbye to my innocence. I almost shed a tear for Momma and Sam. I kick all my fear into a cupboard. I hear a gong, and run into a madhouse.

[abel maclaren enters the seventieth bloodbath.]

grim.
Capitol Resident

1,081 POSTS
last seen Sept 30, 2020 18:45:26 GMT -5

The Bloodbath Jun 13, 2015 8:21:51 GMT -5

Quote

Post by grim. on Jun 13, 2015 8:21:51 GMT -5

Hear our bitter sweet symphony,
Watch as us twisted triplets play

    Today is the day, the day that I am hoping will be my last. I was going to enter an arena that would fill to the brim with blood soon enough. I am thirsty to draw blood, and have some of my own drawn. What a game, I applaud the man who came up with this very idea. It was inspirational. I want to feast on the life's of all of these lost children, I want to feel their being be torn away. I want to watch the life drain from their eyes, and the fear melt away into the earth. Fear was such a funny emotion, it was simply the shame we felt for what was to come. Fear wasn't real, just as happiness was only imaginary. It was something that could only be felt temporarily. But weren't we a race that revolved around the word "temporary"? Nothing lasted forever, everyone was dispensable. Permanent was a word created by an idiot. I hated that word...permanent, more then I hated the titles our world relied on. 

    I wake this morning, a sun shining down on my face, creaking through the open window. I feel a smile run a crossed my face, my hand pulling my hair away form my...happy face. I was ecstatic, nearly jumping for joy, in the most moderate form of the saying. I sit up, lifting myself form my bed, and I pull on a set of clothing. Not wanting to shower, standing bare was something that expressed to much vulnerability for my taste. I would rather carry a natural scent. This of course made for an upset stylist, but fuck their stupid views, I was going to be comfortable. I walk out of my room, only to see my stylists were there to welcome me. They dress me in the clothing that was of course regular attire for this arena, and then send me off. I was given a few small pointers, and then sent to a small room. The lights a painful vibrant white, and a small platform that I was meant to stand on. 

    I stand on the platform, feeling the glass door seal itself shut. I then stand staring upward. What was above was impossible to guess, but either way, one of those twenty-three children, were going to be mine. I smile as the platform begins to rise. I had a grin full of teeth by the time it reached the top. I don't take the time to look at the tributes around me, I strictly stare forward. I stop for a moment as the countdown begins. Closing my eyes, and lifting my arms to the sky, I take a deep breathe, and then I exhale, my smile never loosening. The gong sounds, and my feet are quick to react, this was my moment, this is what I was meant to do. We have a fun day ahead of us, and I'm beginning to get restless. 

[ Imp Stole Enters The BB ]

[/div]

where my demons hide.

Deleted

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last seen Nov 23, 2024 21:51:27 GMT -5

The Bloodbath Jun 13, 2015 8:21:49 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Deleted on Jun 13, 2015 8:21:49 GMT -5

[ NOAH .

It was sixty seconds of rust, a heart beat and a vein tick and he was alive, he was terrified, but it was at least something he was accustomed to. There weren't people to watch his back - a list of people of maybe's yeah - Maya, Sue, Kiena, Lethe, Bailey. They were names and names only, breathing dust and cigarettes for a week where was the idea of not dying. Lungs of iron weren't his namesake, Noah only dreamed of the days where breathing was easy and sulfur lined the draws in his fingers.

It was a breath.

"O'fuck you!"

[ ATTACKS . LILY ]
PHzPvmXo200+5000
[ RESULTS ]

claims 10 THROWING AXES ]

200+5000

анзие (Anz)
Retired Staff

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probably away

The Bloodbath Jun 13, 2015 8:21:56 GMT -5

Quote

Post by анзие (Anz) on Jun 13, 2015 8:21:56 GMT -5

[googlefont="Arya:400"]

	NAT KRIGEL
	If he is the world, then his tongue is dust on the desert plain and his fingers roots knotting together like the act will keep him alive. His heart is the heated core, bubbling with the threat of an explosion; his mind is Panem, teeming with the life and light of lives in millions. His bones are mountains, moving only to be fractured, broken, shattered. But his eyes are all Michel Nathanael Krigel, and what sits before him is not the world, but a sorry copy of some better model. Blaise Krigel, version alpha; but he didn't come first. It's like he was born to be second. Nat raises his gaze to his reflection in home's cracked mirror, spotted black along cracks and around the edges. The right corner has shattered from childhood games, from a thrown book from... from... Arissa to Leon, he thinks. Or maybe it's the other way around. For as long as Nat can remember, the mirror at home is cracked and broken. Home, no, is not in Victor's Village. Home is not with his estranged father, or anywhere else but home. Home is the tiny place they grew up in, where Arissa had her own room and Nat didn't; where the kitchen door squeaks, and the second-seventh-ninth step on the way upstairs squeaks, and his bed squeaks, and all the cupboards in the kitchen squeak; where winters are cold and summers are hot; where the stove sometimes caught fire because there's too much gunk below the metal; where he knew by heart the shape of every crack in the ceiling he and Leon shared; where he had birthdays and Ratmases and celebrations and memories and watched his siblings survive Reapings until one didn't and then home didn't belong to them anymore. Home was just another empty house on the street that was theirs, and the land that was theirs until one didn't and they left. In the mirror his eyes slide shut, pale green shimmering with frustration and disappointment before they are hidden from sight. He is a ghost, pale and tired and lost; his soul wanders on its own, watching his own tiny reflection in the mirror that feels too large to fit him inside. Fingers linger on his breath, and Nat reaches up to grip the hand of his shadow. The world tilts, flails, and he's in a white room, lights too bright and he's too old now. He's too old but so young but somehow just the right age to be sitting in the launch room with nothing but the clothes on his back and the firm hold of his stylist's hand to ground him. Nat's somehow old enough to be in the running for his own life with nothing but the words of the wiser for a shield. "You can't sneak up on a blind kid in the snow." Yeah. Thanks Arbor. Dry as they may be, he means the words directed towards his adopted mentor: Thank you. For keeping him alive when his own fucking brother won't try. "I get it! You're too good for me. Too good for your own family. God, if you'd just said something then maybe I wouldn't be here, wondering what the fuck is wrong with you." "Don't let me go," he hears himself say, and Jizav squeezes his hand tight. "I have to let you go, Nat," Leon said. "I'll hold on for as long as I can," says Jizav. Said Jizav. Nat says, "Bye." And he's let go too, Nat rising alone past clear glass on a metal plate to dry dust and tall lines in the distance. A light breeze catches his hair - you're secondhand smoke - and Nat tilts his head back to - and I'll breathe you in. The tips of his fingers tingle, and heat blooms up his arms as breath eases into his empty lungs, and like he can see the swirl of oxygen in his lungs Nat grins - young, wild, free. Not a speck of snow on the ground, Arbor Halt; and Nat won't be second best today. He won't be second best here. The clock ticks down twenty, nineteen- "-eighteen, seventeen-" Giggling but trying to stifle the sounds escaping their tiny frames the Krigel brothers are unable to meet each others' eyes for fear of busting out laughing. He's three - he remembers because it's his third birthday, and he's wearing a little seashell bracelet clumsily strung together by the childish hands of his older brother. Leon has his hands covering both his own and Michel's mouth, shoulders shaking with silent laughter brought on by the excitement of playing; Michel is bursting with the need to release his happiness, but he holds it back with great difficulty, wide eyes flicking between his brother and the entrance their sister should enter. "-thirteen, twelve, eleven-" "Try not to be so loud, you'll give us away," Leon whispers, lisping through the tooth missing behind his lips. Michel pushes his hands past his brother's and stuffs his tiny, fat fists in his mouth, eyes on his brother widening further until it feels like they'd just pop out of his head and roll away on the ground. "-ten, nine, eight, seven-" "Shh, shh-" "-six, five, four-" Leon says, "If she finds us, run away." "'kay," Michel whispers back around his fists. "-three-" Two. One. "-one!" One. One. One. One. "Ready or not, here I come!" He runs. Nat Krigel enters the Bloodbath
	district 4 male of the 70th Hunger Games

✨ zozo. made this. she is my spirit animal.

basic table guide

cachi olentzero | 10b | tribsi
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last seen Jun 25, 2022 13:30:11 GMT -5

The Bloodbath Jun 13, 2015 8:21:58 GMT -5

Quote

Post by cachi olentzero | 10b | tribsi on Jun 13, 2015 8:21:58 GMT -5

You don’t know me, you can’t hold me. I’ll slip through your hands, I am one single grain of sand

I rush towards the cornucopia, my short weak legs carrying me across the metallic surface as fast as they can. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, telling me to run. Run run run and don't stop even at granny's house or the wolf will get you. I know everyone will be after me. To finish me off first because I am the youngest in the games, but now I am letting the bad lily inside me take over. If they try to harm me, I will destroy them. I seep deeply into my new character, my new person, as any good actor should, and I let my real self slumber, as I do what I would never want to do ever, attack someone.

Words: ###
Tag: @tag
Notes: blah blah

Thanks to ❥Megz of Adox and GS

[Lily Attacks Rowan Combe ]
_GPhA_Edunarmed
[Result] ( picks up 10 throwing axes)

You don’t know me, you can’t hold me. I’ll slip through your hands, I am one single grain of sand

I rush towards the cornucopia, my short weak legs carrying me across the metallic surface as fast as they can. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, telling me to run. Run run run and don't stop even at granny's house or the wolf will get you. I know everyone will be after me. To finish me off first because I am the youngest in the games, but now I am letting the bad lily inside me take over. If they try to harm me, I will destroy them. I seep deeply into my new character, my new person, as any good actor should, and I let my real self slumber, as I do what I would never want to do ever, attack someone.

Words: ###
Tag: @tag
Notes: blah blah

Thanks to ❥Megz of Adox and GS

[Lily Attacks Rowan Combe ]
unarmed
[Result] ( picks up 10 throwing axes)

unarmed�unarmed

Preston Garrity d4m [Tribsit]
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last seen Jul 16, 2015 22:05:24 GMT -5

The Bloodbath Jun 13, 2015 8:22:06 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Preston Garrity d4m [Tribsit] on Jun 13, 2015 8:22:06 GMT -5

Reality

Preston march garrity

i know it's dire, my time today

Throughout the entirety of last night, not more than a wink of sleep came upon me. Sure, I knew to every extent that this was to be my last good nights' rest for an indefinite period of time, but had I stopped to really ponder that hell- this was probably to be my last good nights' anything for the rest of my life- I might have taken the opportunity given. Despite, I found myself more awake than ever when morning came, blinding light and what bared a facade of a final look at 'hope' welcoming me into its uneasy arms.

My head had never felt so empty in the thirteen years I had been alive.

Quietly, as if releasing myself from a trance, I let my feet guide me to the clean clothes on my dresser. Every inch of their crispness seemed to mock me and with eyelashes hung shadowed over cheek, I allowed grey orbs to run over the creases of the fabric with experience that me a few weeks ago never knew.

"Here's to a new beginning, a new rise, and a new fall."

//

The seconds following my boarding of the hovercraft offered no peace to the scattered essence of my mind. Seeing as I was one of the first to board, I was left to stare at the empty seat to the left of me, then to the front of me, then to the ground where my shoes rest barely noticeable against the metal; the only time I dared look toward the door was when I saw Asher enter from the corner of my eye, a faint astral smile crossing my lips at the sight of someone I knew, of someone I trusted. Even then, I couldn't help but let every inch of my crawl with anticipation.

Seconds passed, then minutes before the shutting of the door caused my eyes to flit there and back. Surreal, Emilie would have called it back home, as she looked me in the eyes and placed a fragile hand on my shoulder. Never did either of us think that we would be placed in the games, a deathbed for our wishes to fester until they ultimately led us to our demise. I let a silent, dry laugh escape the confines of my throat at the thought of yet another regret to add to the list I made back on the train.

Not wanting to waste my sanity on the petty things I did or didn't do, I let myself zone out, barely noticing when we reached our last taste of civilization, our last taste of full-grown humanity. In a perfect world, the winner of the games would go home to their family a hero- after all, what else would one be with the amount of fortune and wealth merited by their victory? However, this is certainly not a perfect world, and seeing as reality is the hardest kick to the shin anyone has ever experienced, the victor's family gets nothing but some useless number of currency and a corpse.

If I win, I will be nothing but a corpse.

If I lose, I will be nothing but a corpse.

I am a corpse.

By now, I had reached the final destination of my journey, nothing to greet me but the soft stare of my stylist and the transparency of a tube in the corner. For a moment, I could almost see his possibly forced smile falter, but how could a capitolite feel sorry for me? Certainly, they couldn't; I frowned.

Normally, a tribute would take the time to say goodbye to the person that had dazzled them up for the camera, or even sit down and recollect their thoughts. I, however, had no interest in anything but taking a shallow breath, making brief eye contact with the man I had come to know as Jizav, and walking straight into the coil of the snake.

Once again, like the two other times today, I waited, and Leaning back ever-so-slightly, I let my mind wander to the fact that my family, my best friend, my classmates were all watching this from the safety of their home. Not a single one of them had felt what I was feeling right now and the large majourity of them never would, for that matter. How it hurt to know that some people actually wanted to throw themselves in the face of death and not a single one of them happened to be in my presence when the briskly cold hands of our president read my name from that slip of paper.

For hours I could have continued to lead myself on in my head, but as the monotone voice that I had awaited for the past minutes broke through the speaker, I allowed myself to stand a bit straighter and shift my attention back to the present.

"You have ten seconds to board the platform."

Of course, I didn't need those ten seconds like some of the others might have. All I required was the time to straighten out my shirt over the barely-noticeable bulge of my chest and turn my attention toward the designated direction. I was as ready as I'd ever be, and even that would never be enough.

The cool glass tube closed around me, holding me like a python in its grasp.

Faintly, I could feel myself rising, the vagueness of a countdown playing silently in my head.

60

I'll never see my parents again.

50

At least they'll get to see me when whatever remains of my body is sent back in a big wooden box.

40

Maybe I shouldn't be thinking so lowly of myself; after all, maybe me- 13 year old, weak-ass child me- will prevail and get to go home.

30

That would require, Asher dying though.

20

And Gunner.

10

Hell, that would require all 23 of the other kids who probably have a family to go back to dying.

9

No matter what, I'll walk out of here a murderer.

8

Because if it's not me

7

It's them

6

And even if I never lay hands on any of the other kids here, today

5

I'll have to live whatever is left of my short-ass life with the knowledge that that could have been me.

4

That could have been me.

3

2

1

[Preston Garrity enters the Blood Bath]

wc: 1031

song: Car radio

Simon Karnes d10m
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last seen Jun 13, 2015 16:30:45 GMT -5

The Bloodbath Jun 13, 2015 8:22:08 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Simon Karnes d10m on Jun 13, 2015 8:22:08 GMT -5

Simon Karnes

My mind lurches into overdrive as I leap from my platform and race towards the Cornucopia, a shining mass in my line of vision. After so many years of my life spent running you'd think I could get there faster, that I wouldn't be winded already, that my side wouldn't be aching. But as I look around me, I find other's gaining on me, pushing ahead as I fall behind.

No, no, wait, just wait...

I gasp for air, my mind having forgotten that I needed to breathe. When I finally reach where I need to go, I find myself huffing and puffing, but so full of adrenaline that it's easy to swing at the nearest moving object.

{Attacks lily with fists}
FC1ATd1tunarmed
thrown to ground, 0.5

{Picks up 10 Shuriken}

unarmed

Last Edit: Jun 13, 2015 8:23:15 GMT -5 by Simon Karnes d10m

aya
Administrator

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

"GUNNERRRRR~"

The Bloodbath Jun 13, 2015 8:22:12 GMT -5

Quote

Post by aya on Jun 13, 2015 8:22:12 GMT -5

Elya Johnwayne

god if i have to die
you will have to die

Elya hit the ground running as soon as the clock reached zero. In the dull sunlight, she lost sight of her allies. They were around somewhere — it was unfamiliar to have Circe more than a few mere paces away — but in the moment, it didn't matter where exactly. She'd find the boys eventually, Orion and Nat, and Circe would likely find her before Elya One-Eye even thought to look for the blonde. The only thing that mattered was getting her hands on — in — those brass knuckles and caving somebody's fucking head in. She met her first challenger in the field before she reached them, threw an elbow but did not pursue. The brass knuckles were for her, could not be intended for anyone else, and she was not about to squander time wrestling some nobody to the ground until after she had the brass to back her up.

[attacks STELLA, unarmed]
wxOhzzDLunarmed
[ attack | damage ]

[ retrieves STUDDED BRASS KNUCKLES (KNIFE) ]

unarmed

{characters}

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

mat
Retired Staff

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The Bloodbath Jun 13, 2015 8:22:16 GMT -5

Quote

Post by mat on Jun 13, 2015 8:22:16 GMT -5

30.. Dear Father…
You’ve never been much to me
Other than someone who I seemed to be assigned to.
29.. Honestly, you gave me too much freedom.
You let me do anything I wanted,
Quite frankly, this ruined my already ruined life.
28.. So thanks for being an idiotic bitch to me.
Maybe it is time to forgive, or better yet..
Forget.
Are you

27.. Dear.. whatever the hell kind of “replacement mother” you are.
I won’t really miss you.
If anything you hardly loved me.
26.. You’re too fake for me
I hope you watch me die or thrive. Whichever, I hope it makes you sad.
ready for

25.. Dear Kameron.. my sweet half-sister.
You.. you were different.
You let me be your follower, and I hope you never minded..
24.. But you controlled my life
Gave me no hope, refused to let me be free.
Well now I’m the Protective Deer, and you’re the poor little Fawn.
ready for Panem War LXX

23.. And mother. The one that abandoned me as a child.
The one that I’ve heard good things about.
I hope you’re still alive out there.
22.. I hope if I die
You’re still alive to watch it.
This is all because of you, what I am doing.
21.. I pray that you’re just going to sit there helplessly.
That is how I feel.
And if you’re dead…
20.. Get ready for the hell I’m bringin’ to you.
I’m sure as hell not

19.. And then I open my eyes quickly. The clock continues to strike down, each time fear builds up effortlessly. My hands twitch. I wish I could step back and flee out of the Bloodbath, but it is only going to hurt if I ignore all the good stuff in there. This is not lavish anymore; it is all broken up and shattered. I can’t imagine what half of the minds around me are imagining, probably worse than I. For the past eleven seconds, minds have been tossing and turning for the LXX games. My eyes shift left and right. Remember who your fake friends are… and your real ones, Geo. Remember that everyone is out to win, but only one of you will.
18.. How am I going to ever forgive myself for what I’m doing right now? Oh, that’s right, it is nearly impossible to forget what happens in the Games. Names all surround me. Gabrielle O’Dale, O’Connor, Abel, and Ty also.. If I am going to get out, I have to find some way to accept that my deepest fears are now going to come true. How did Katelyn, Patricia, Leon, Colgate, Saffron, Opal, and so many others accept it? Accept that their friends, some closer than others, all died. Even if it did better their odds, how could they forget them? Their faces probably haunt them every day. Only a few of these tributes are ones I know the name of, but seeing them dead, knowing it also, would never get away from me.
17.. Chaos. The damn chaos that everyone must be feeling right now must be a bit too overwhelming for everyone. My muscles tense, waiting to spring open involuntarily when my body forces itself to run, run for my life and also for people that actually matter. All these people matter, some more than others to specific people, but how can they do this? How does a group of twenty-four tributes all accept and willfully kill people that matter to others. I can’t happily kill anyone, unlike some of the crazies standing on pedestals, some closer than others to me. People could be ready to snap my neck faster than I can beg for mercy and die by surprise while doing so.
but now it’s time

16.. I gently pat my back, hoping that it could be enough to give forgiveness for now.
15.. Please, just let me live through at least a bit of this shit? I ask.
14.. Let me just get past one day, so I’m not frowned upon.

fight for what you think is right

13.. I hope Abel gets out alive.
12.. I hope Gab gets out alive.
11.. I hope O’Connor gets out alive…
10.. I hope Ty lives too.
9.. Even though we all can’t get alive, at least help them get out of the Cornucopia.

and now, you just have to

8.. And
7.. just
6.. one
5.. more
4.. thing,
3.. help
2.. me
1.. to
The gong sounds..

]fly

Geo Venn enters the Bloodbath

credit to will

ghosty
Mentor

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Pronouns: he/him
last seen Dec 5, 2022 12:52:02 GMT -5

The Bloodbath Jun 13, 2015 8:22:22 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ghosty on Jun 13, 2015 8:22:22 GMT -5

Gabrielle looked at herself in the reflection of the cylindrical tube which slowly encased her with soft hiss. The countdown had only just begun, 2 minutes until the Games would begin. 2 minutes is just a number she told herself as she stared at the faces of those she should care about but didn’t; her stylist and her escort. She didn’t even know their names, and she did not wave back as they waved at here with big grins on their faces, their faces painted like clowns. She thought them foolish, naïve and this was coming from someone who was so naïve once herself; but she were still just a child. I wonder if they know I am going to die she thought to herself as the timer reached 1 minute and 30 seconds.

“Just a number…” she told herself as she clutched buddy- the old worn out teddy she which were her token- to her chest before slipping him into the inside pocket of the long leather coat she wore, with a diagonal line of buttons she had to redo once her friend was safely inside.

She was distracted, twiddling with one of the buttons as she edged it through the hole, so she was taken by surprise when the platform she was standing on suddenly jolted and began to rise. Her hands caught the edge of the tube as she fell forward as a gasp passed through her lips, the buckle of her belt jingling slightly as she did. She felt her heart beat begin to flutter as she looked up to see the room she’d been stood in, not moments before, slowly fall away. The smiling clowns, the two people she was supposed to remember, were suddenly gone.

The world she once knew was suddenly gone.

“Brienne…” the words fell from her lips in an almost sob as she was briefly plunged into darkness before she rose into the arena.

The light of the arena was dim, almost pungent in its atmosphere, like a sunset late in summer. The sky was a drifting mix of oranges, browns and dusky yellows, a mix of clouds formed a good portion of the horizon. As the platform came to a slow and steady stop, silently clicking into place, Gabrielle looked up as she heard the sound of a train clutter past on a set of ornate and iron tracks. The sound was almost deafening as the train roared past like a clash of thunder, a lash of wind caused Gabrielle’s coat to flutter before it came to a gentle rest.

Her eyes darted from the passing train, to the cornucopia which towered in front of her. It glowed, rather than glistened, in the dim light of the arena; it’s bounty of plenty stacked up around it. The sight took her breath away, but rather than a good state of awe it was a punch to the stomach which blew the wind from her chest in one foul swing. It was the awful realisation of the consequences of the four words she’d uttered “I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE” not 2 weeks ago, hitting her, washing over her like a wave. Suddenly she was drowning in emotion, and as she crouched on the platform she sucked in a deep breath as she tried to stop the tears that welled in her eyes.

30 seconds…

The voice was echoing, godlike over the gripping silence that filled the arena. Gabrielle rose, looking round at the other tributes who stood with her. Her eyes passed over those she knew and those she didn’t, her eyes locking with Geo- her District partner and her friend- and then the boy from District one, Tybalt. For some reason her eyes passed them quickly, only allowing for the second of assurance that they would keep one another safe. Her mind was searching for someone else, someone she could not quite remember the name of…

10 seconds

Until the 10 second mark came.

9…

Brienne. Tears began to fall down her cheeks, as the absence of her sister became ever so real; her heart seized and for a moment she could only choke out a small sob. Her sister, so kind and gentle once upon a time. Now her skin was like marble, she was like a statue. A broken one- the one you would see crying about some lost lover in the pantheon of Gods.

8….

Brienne. Her sisters name crossed her mind again as the seconds ticked by.

7…

“I am so sorry…” she said, looking up at the sky in hopes a camera would home in on her face, allowing her sister to see her for one last time. She wondered, if Brienne was watching at the college with their Foster mother and if she was crying too?

6…

Of course she is… thought the young blonde girl who closed her eyes

5…

She knew she had been a fool, a foolish stupid and naïve little girl who thought she could do good in the world by saving her sister. She wanted to be the knight in shining armour, the prince, the heroic princess like in the tales Brienne used to read to her.

4…

There are no such things as fairy tales… she thought as she opened her eyes, thinking of her sister smashing her step fathers head in with a fire poker. no such thing.

3…

She just hoped that, if she did, by some miracle, make it out alive that Brienne would forgive her.

2…

She took in a deep breath in as the just numbers counted down and a doubt crossed her mind.

1…

She’d forgive me...right?

GONG!

Unable to find her sister's face in the crowd of 24 tributes, Gabrielle took off in a sprint at the sound of the gong.

Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]
Administrator

9,638 POSTS
Pronouns: She/Her
last seen Nov 10, 2024 11:48:08 GMT -5

cameron stood in line for an hour for a stupid ride for me <3 best <3

The Bloodbath Jun 13, 2015 8:22:40 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] on Jun 13, 2015 8:22:40 GMT -5

The moment the counter ends, Circe is on the ground, running. She doesn’t have a particular destination in mind; she has a particular person in mind. There is no single thing in the Cornucopia that can entice her more than Elya Johnwayne.

It’s not hard to spot the one-eyed girl, despite the grim shadows. She is completely unphased by the chaos, above the cacophony. Circe slows, her movements elongating as she comes to a more graceful lope. “Nice of them to have all this stuff just for us.” She smirks and turns to the Cornucopia, which is already being swarmed. Her muscles thrum, warm with adrenaline.

She is so ready for The Games, at last.

“Just have to remind everyone that it’s ours.” [ Circe attacks ASHER RAINER ; unarmed ]

[results]

Me_|mFUW”unarmed””unarmed”

Last Edit: Jun 13, 2015 8:23:19 GMT -5 by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]

credit umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]

credit ✨ zozo.

- chars -

Deleted

0 POSTS
last seen Nov 23, 2024 21:51:27 GMT -5

The Bloodbath Jun 13, 2015 8:22:43 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Deleted on Jun 13, 2015 8:22:43 GMT -5

wyatt o'connor

An introduction to fixing your child’s depression: page one.

Small font on a large page skimmed by tired eyes, sixty seconds from that introductory line, “Twenty percent of teenagers will experience depression before they reach adulthood.” Yet they never mentioned what happened to the group of twenty percent that never became more than that statistic, lost too early in one book, but too late in another—I was caught between the pages of a bloody battlefield.

Words from these pages personified in swinging limbs and carving blades—I want to smear the ink between my fingers like black blood I cannot remove from my veins, so I bruise my knuckles instead, like bruises of black and blue will smear page one from an existence it is etched into.

[wyatt o'connor attacks lily hope; unarmed]
wGV3JwaZunarmed
[result]

[picks up turkish bow and 10 arrows]

unarmed

Asher Rainer d7m {Royal}
Hunter

98 POSTS

last seen Aug 15, 2015 18:16:11 GMT -5

*Whispers in eye* I'm going to kill you

The Bloodbath Jun 13, 2015 8:22:47 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Asher Rainer d7m {Royal} on Jun 13, 2015 8:22:47 GMT -5

Something beautiful

ASHER RAINER
or something free?

TAG: WORDS: 103 Notes:

Chaos. That's the only expression that came to Asher's head as he dashes off of the plate towards the center of the Arena. Total fucking chaos.

He looks to his left to see tributes dashing off as well, and Asher grits his teeth and dash harder, and faster than the tribute to his right. He spotted the materials in front of him and scoops one up, swinging his fist to his right to hit anybody near him. He hoped it wasn't Preston or Gunner- and his fist was feeling mighty heavy with that swing as well.

He scans the ground for further supplies to scavenge.

[Asher Rainer attacks Lily Hope]

ZALepv1Nunarmed

[Asher Rainer picks up his first item {Rapier}]

unarmed

LET'S GOOOOOOOOOO!

Meh Characters-

ASHER RAINER- hungergamesrpg.com/thread/73852/asher-rainer-district-age-17
JECKLER RILEY- hungergamesrpg.com/thread/74657/jeckler-riley-d2
GALAXY LISTAL- hungergamesrpg.com/thread/74718/linstall-galaxy-d3-fin?
KREIA CHASE- hungergamesrpg.com/thread/74747/kreia-ch

✨ zozo.
Retired Staff

8,205 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen Nov 23, 2024 18:42:16 GMT -5

bloomtodeath

The Bloodbath Jun 13, 2015 8:22:47 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ✨ zozo. on Jun 13, 2015 8:22:47 GMT -5

[rowan combe]

Running is easier in reality. In dreams you are sucked through a million possibilities with only luck on your side. Perhaps you will run like wind, flighty and unpredictable. Perhaps you will be lightening, fast and untraceable. Or perhaps you are like me, unable to move, caught in a slow, sluggish movement that feels like you're drowning. But there's no pain when you run in dreams. Your legs don't burn, your head doesn't throb, your breath doesn't catch and your eyes dart from side to side, certain that at any moment everything will stop and you will cease to exist forever. In dreams, all you do is wake up. If this is some sort of dream, a life in-between a thousand others, then perhaps I will wake up again. I hope, for my future sake, that I don't remember any of this. I hope, for my future sake, that I don't have to use the weapon I pick up wildly on anyone else.

[attacks olivia unarmed]

jVmBTNYZunarmed

result

[picks up crowbar (blunt)]

unarmed

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

Deleted

0 POSTS
last seen Nov 23, 2024 21:51:27 GMT -5

The Bloodbath Jun 13, 2015 8:22:54 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Deleted on Jun 13, 2015 8:22:54 GMT -5

Sue Tate

One.

Gobbled up lies and broken branches of his soul hang from the tree of his existence, log arms carrying the weight of not only his weapon but of his soul. He swings, once, and again and again, because his mind is set on overdrive and his muscles set to survive and his body set on run but his actions scream fight. He hears screams and he feels warm blood shower down on his left cheek. It isn't mine. At least, he thinks, for the boy with the sin filled soul doesn't know if any part of him can feel pain anymore. He bites down hard on his lies, his muscles screaming two words

Run. Survive.

But his words do not carry him away, and instead he swings the weapon in his hands at the nearest tribute, aiming for their neck.

Kill.