malfunction | Cam/Mattio/Lance | | Hunger Games: The RPG

ali
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Ohana means family

malfunction | Cam/Mattio/Lance | Sept 28, 2015 17:05:02 GMT -5

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Post by ali on Sept 28, 2015 17:05:02 GMT -5

Daria Staite
{district four tribute}

We've opened our eyes and its changing the view
Oh, what are we gonna do?
We've opened the door, now its all coming through

Upon arrival to the Capitol, the storm surged and suddenly came to a point of calm, where the waves did not grow and grow before they crumbled under their own weight in a flurry of salty water and foam and the sky was blue and the sun was shining. Daria had reached the eye of the storm, the hurricane still whirled around her- inside her head- but it was, for the shortest moment, it was calm.

Upon arrival to the Capitol, Daria was whisked away from her fellow District partner and Leon Krigel to be washed, pampered and glorified. The reality of the situation, hidden behind a mask so well created that even Daria did not feel the fear she had felt only hours before hand on the train. She no longer felt the strings that cut into her wrists as fear tugged on them, drawing bloodied emotions from deep within; fear must be sleeping, she thought as she softly closed her eyes in content as someone washed her hair and scrubbed her feet.

She could sense the rushed atmosphere, how people ran between rooms to collect things they had forgotten, but this did not worry her. For a moment, she was somewhere else. For a moment she was not about to be paraded in front of the whole of Panem like a peice of meat ready for purchase at the butchers. For a moment, a fraction in time, she was on a desert island somewhere far away with calming shores and soft gentle skies.

She was in paradise.

Paradise quickly passed as she returned from the parade, shaking and shivering in her coral pink dress covered in vertical frills of various shades of pinks and oranges. her dress was made of some fine fabric and only covered as far as 2 inches above her knees so her legs and arms were bared to the elements; her head was rather toast beneath the bulbous round pink hat she wore with tendrils of glittery fabric hanging from it. It was a chilly evening and Daria rubbed her arms quickly as she stepped from the carriage with the help of an avox (the hat she wore did not help her in the area of vision what so ever and she was sure she already had bruises forming on her legs).

As Daria shimmied her way to the elevator, desperate to get out of this stupid costume- which apparently was supposed to make her look like a jellyfish- and into something a little warmer. Daria thanked ripred that when she called the elevator it was empty, void of other tributes who would point and laugh at her bizzare looking costume; though hers was not the weirdest here.I wonder if I can have dessert for dinner she thought aimlessly as she shuffled into the elevator where she waited for it to continue up.

“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.”

cameron
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MY SHIT IS TOGETHER - Shy Aubergine

malfunction | Cam/Mattio/Lance | Sept 28, 2015 23:59:01 GMT -5

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Post by cameron on Sept 28, 2015 23:59:01 GMT -5

H E A T H E R
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o o o

She turned me into a tree.

Excuse my language, Mother, but she turned me into a god damn tree.

Narvila swore on her wardrobe that it would work. She swore up and down, left and right, forward and reverse that the costume would work. Instead, Heather was a damn tree for all of Panem to see. The thought of Charlotte Tenley's embarrassment rode her like a chapless cowboy during the entire trip back to the training center. The thing was, she wasn't actually mad. She should've been -- oh, god, she should have been -- but it was mostly an air of indifference that encompassed her. Heather was glad it was over. The entire parade she felt the walls closing in on her, the soft haired Draco a thousand feet away even though he was on the same carriage as her.

Sometimes it all hit her at once. A wave of panic, the salty foam of the sea of her anxieties drowning her in broad daylight. Other times, the waters were calm and she could feel the breeze rustling her hair, hear the birds flutter above. Since coming to the Capitol, Heather's emotions had been unpredictable. She was on edge at all times, but tranquility founds its merry way into her bloodstream. Two sides of the coin, two polar charges, one confused girl.

By this point, Heather may as well have aged thirty more years before she turned seventeen. It would align more with how she felt. The weight of the pressures of the Games wrinkled her skin, hunched her back, and slowed her step. When the Games began, and the Tributes raced to the Cornucopia, Heather would be on the ground clenching her chest, suffering from a mild cardiac arrest. "District Four male stabbed in eye! The girl from the Twelfth completely gutted! And that hag from Seven has low blood sugar again! Somebody get her some chocolate!" That would be a reason for her mother to actually be embarrassed. Not because she was a damn tree in the parade.

Heather couldn't wait to get the tree off of her though. The trunk was wide and made walking evolve into wobbling, and her bushy headpiece concealed a portion of her view. She was pretty sure Narvila had put real tree limbs in her hair. Where she managed to find tree limbs, Heather would never know. She saw the elevator door open, and someone in a costume possibly stranger than her own climbed on. Heather figured the girl would understand her desperation to share the elevator -- clearly neither wanted to remain in their costumes for much longer -- and she rushed forward, squeezing her limbs into the chambers and pushing past the outlandishly dressed Tribute. Not that she had room to talk.

"Nice costume. You look like royalty," a shit-eating grin plastered across her leaf-shaded face.

o o o

Last Edit: Sept 28, 2015 23:59:46 GMT -5 by cameron

lance
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gay and chaotic? call it gayos

malfunction | Cam/Mattio/Lance | Sept 30, 2015 0:25:55 GMT -5

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Post by lance on Sept 30, 2015 0:25:55 GMT -5

If the Reapings had been terrifying, the chariot rides were downright humiliating.

First there had been the prep stage, where Tyler had been washed, waxed, and scrubbed so thoroughly he could have sworn he lost two layers of skin.

Next had been the stylist, a man sporting lime green hair and a perpetual air of energy, something that Tyler had found rather ironic, as he was from the district of power, after all.

The stylist had gone for a rather simple yet flashy costume for the sixteen year old. The pants were relatively simple. Made of a thin yet surprisingly warm material, they also had the side effect of shimmering silver whenever Tyler so much as twitched.

The shirt and vest was where it had really gotten wacky. The former was basically a tank top made from the same shimmery fabric as the pants, ensuring that the blonde boy would literally shine wherever he went. Not the most traditional method of getting noticed, but hopefully an effective one.

Completing the outfit was a vest that was more like chainmail than cloth, except instead of chains it was a countless number of wires, each woven expertly enough to not only emulate a vest, but also sport several solar panels as well. Tyler hadn't quite understood what that was for, but suspecting that his stylist had some ulterior motive for such a piece of clothing, he had simply shrugged and played along.

Now that the rides were over, however, the blonde boy wanted nothing more than to get away from the cheering crowds and back to the relative quiet of his room. Between the hordes of Capitol citizens cheering them on and the rather imposing speech given by the rather imposing President, Tyler had had quite enough for one night.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of weaving through and ducking around an endless crowd, he reached the set of elevators at the far end of the room. One already has its doors open and is holding a pair of people, but at this point Tyler couldn't care less about who he has to ride up with.

He steps inside well before the doors close, and heads for the one free wall in the elevator, the other two being already occupied by a girl in a flashy dress and a tree, respectively. Barely suppressing a grin, the blonde boy makes a mental note to be grateful to his stylist, as he at least has more originality than the stylists from Seven. Literally though, Tyler cannot remember the last time a District Seven tribute had not been a tree at the parade.

Adjusting his vest for what seems like the millionth time, Tyler leans back against the wall, letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Neither of the two girls - at least he thinks it's the female under that tree getup - seem particularly chatty, and the boy has no desire to change that.

Right now, all he wants to do is collapse and hope that the last few hours were just a bad dream.

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credit to fireflyz!

credit to stare!

mat
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malfunction | Cam/Mattio/Lance | Sept 30, 2015 18:30:50 GMT -5

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Post by mat on Sept 30, 2015 18:30:50 GMT -5

[googlefont="Kranky:400"]

rodrick benstaloe

If there was one thing I didn’t mind about going through this adventure, it was the cowboy outfit that made me laugh my hat off. It seemed so appropriate for District Ten, and also for my personal image. Country boy, pretty boy, nice boy. All images that I feel like being portrayed as couldn’t be bad. People don’t like the angry, snobby, rude people, making it a bit safer to say I won’t be a true enemy of many people. Smile, wave, and don’t be rude. The three goals that if achieved, you’re one step closer to not pissing people off.

This first day in the Capitol has been mainly showing ourselves off to the Capitol. I don’t find it that important. It’s not like they can prevent you from dying. They’re so happy to cheer for us when we’re alive. And when we’re dead, they cheer like a charm of hummingbirds stabbing into a tree. The atmosphere of the cheering now is what gets me up. When I’m not here, I’ll just want to sleep like Rodney in that arena.

I walk casually to the elevator. I want to keep this outfit on for the rest of my life, no matter how long or short it is, but I know that won’t happen. These people are very demanding, and you have to do what they want. I’m glad to, though. Dreams have karma just as much as real life does. If you get someone else into some deep shit, you’ll eventually be dragged in too.

I wish I could just dream at home instead of dreaming of preparation to fight for my life. It’s not fair. I get hurt in the real world and now I get hurt here, too? Something just needs to scare me enough to wake me up from the hell of a nightmare I’m dreaming. There were so many boys to pick from, and the dream god had to pick me? Is this some sort of life lesson? Turning this whole experience into ice and then smashing it away is something I’d be willing to consider doing. Kill this dream and just enter a new one in a new place with different people. A place where I can dream in peace.

There are already three people going into the elevator, and there still seems to be a little bit of room left. All three of them are in much more complicated outfits than myself. I pick up the pace as the opening begins to close. I don’t want to wait for however long it will take. Time is something not everyone here has. I place my hand on the doorway into the elevator, and I try to push it back. It opens back up and I walk in, staring at the other three people. Their stylists have weird styles. Glad I’m not them.

”Goin up?” he said, preparing to press buttons to get the people on the elevator to the floors they need to go to.

Last Edit: Sept 30, 2015 18:32:09 GMT -5 by mat

ali
Retired Staff

1,729 POSTS
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Ohana means family

malfunction | Cam/Mattio/Lance | Oct 3, 2015 9:19:48 GMT -5

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Post by ali on Oct 3, 2015 9:19:48 GMT -5

Daria Staite
{district four tribute}

We've opened our eyes and its changing the view
Oh, what are we gonna do?
We've opened the door, now its all coming through

Daria continued to ponder whether she'd be able to have a slice of cake or even a macaroon or two for dinner, the tingling of the thought of sweet treats teased her tounge and caused her stomach to begin to rumble slightly. The young girl began to forget the possible public humiliation she had just injured as sweet dreams of cupckaes, pastries, eclairs and other goodies danced across her gentle mind. They were a distraction from the storm that raged within; they were not strong enough though.

Daria broke from her thoughts, suddenly and sharply that is caused her stomach to sink and her mind to faulter briefly, as another tribute stood beside her. The girl looked more like a woman to Daria; she didn't seem like a child. She was tall, long legs and lean in appearence; this woman is a worker Daria thought as she glanced over her. Her arms looked strong and her back looked stronger still, muscled and taut. The woman held herself well and Daria began to feel envious, jelous. This woman was very pretty, it was just a shame she'd been dressed as a tree.

The woman said something but Daria did not quite catch the words on her lips, but judging by her smile that was plastered against her face, Daria could only guess what she had said. The small girl simply blushed and looked forward.

As the sea inside Daria begins to swirl, swell, overflowing in its greatness, Daria hopes that the doors will close soon and they will go shooting up to fourth floor where she will be able to slip out and make her way to her room. She suddenly doesn't feel very hungry, she instead feels very small next to the very pretty woman and she just wants to get away; her shyness would be the death of her if she wasn't careful.

Just as Daria thinks the doors are about to close, someone else enters the lift. This boy lights up the elevator- quite litrally. He is covered in wires and wears some sort of fabric trouses and shirt that light up when ever he moves; it actually looks quite nice but Daria doesn't pay much attention to his costume the moment she notices him trying supress a smile. The girl from 4 simply darts her eyes away, looking in the reflection of the glass as the boy leans against the wall. Her eyes flitter downwards as she watches the lift doors begin to close; finally she breaths.

Just as her hopes are about to be realised the doors stop as someone sticks their hand against the edge to stop them from closing. Daria lets out a small sigh as she moves her head to see whoever else could want to take the lift up- secretly she hopes that they will look about as ridicoulous as her, or the woman in the tree costume, but as the door open again and the mysterious owner of the hand steps in, Daria suddenly find her storm stirring even more.

The boy is, well, a loss for words. That is if Daria could talk. She's unsure if its the fact that the strong jawed, brown haired, boy is dressed as a cowboy that makes her blush like a tomato or the fact that his eyes are the boldest blue she has ever seen; they would make the ocean jealous. The boys jaw has a light dusting of a beard agaisnt its skin, the dark brown hairs show softly against his slightly tanned skin. The boy mentions pressing the buttons and she darts forward, pressing the number 4 as hard as she can.

Returning to her normal stature as the doors begin to close, Daria tries to hide her pink flushed cheeks by putting her hand against her cheek and glancing away to the buttons that stand just in front of her. The girl to her left and the boy with wires darting from his costume would laugh at her if they saw the pink that pressed against her cheeks. Slowly Daria was becoming very aware that it was spread and she just hoped that they would assume she was too hot.

Daria glanced at the numbers above the door as the quickly counted upwards. 1...2...3.... she counted in her head as she inpatiently waited for the number 4 to appear. The lift slowed and the doors opened as she was releaved of the impatience that surged through her body, like a strong wind out at sea. As quickly as she could, Daria slipped past the cowboy and towards the doors. Just one more ste-

Her thought was tugged from underneath her as she was suddenly jerked back by something. Daria cried out, mainly in surprise and partially in pain as she felt her hair being pulled at. The girl bent backwards, as if she were doing the limbo, in an attempt to not fall flat on her back. Regaining some of her balence, Daria twisted round and straightened up a little only to see that two of the tendrils that dangled from her hat had become caught in the branches of the womans costume.

Daria tugged at the tendrils before desperately signing Help! as she watched the relfection of the doors to the elevator begin to close behind her.

“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.”

cameron
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MY SHIT IS TOGETHER - Shy Aubergine

malfunction | Cam/Mattio/Lance | Oct 3, 2015 16:11:54 GMT -5

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Post by cameron on Oct 3, 2015 16:11:54 GMT -5

ooc: i'm warning you now this post is bad but i had to go to work so it's rushed and i didn't wanna hold progress back

H E A T H E R
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o o o

Heather was hoping she and the jellyfish would be the only two in the elevator, and that it would zip up to their respective floors, and never speak about these awful choices in apparel, but that is far from what happened. Two more people joined shortly after, but at least they were attractive. They got lucky with their stylists, too. One was a simple cowboy, and the other was in shiny pants and wrapped in wires. Nothing gaudy like the two girls were forced into.

The elevator dinged as it went up, and Heather watched as the other girl began to exit.

Then it all happened so fast. One moment she was standing in the corner of the elevator, dressed as an evergreen and tapping her foot, impatiently waiting to strip the limbs and branches off her body. The next moment, the jellyfish girl had managed to tangle her twisted tentacles with Heather's leaves, jerking the other girl backward and Heather forward. The short haired girl somehow contorted her body backwards into a 90° angle, and the Seventh district Tribute planted her feet firmly to prevent from toppling over.

The other girl turned around, slamming her fist into her palm and pushing them upward over and over. Blankly staring at the girl, quite confused with what her motions were supposed to symbolize, Heather turned to the other two standing around her, checking to see if they understood what the girl was meaning. When she turned, though, one of her tree limbs slid between the knotted wires surrounding the pretty blond boy. She pulled back, trying to prevent further entanglement, but she overcompensated and ended up sticking a few more branches into his wiry torso.

And then they were stuck, with only the cowboy left out of the destruction.

o o o

lance
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malfunction | Cam/Mattio/Lance | Oct 4, 2015 23:45:31 GMT -5

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Post by lance on Oct 4, 2015 23:45:31 GMT -5

Needless to say, Tyler was not happy with the turn of events.

First it had been the arrival of the tall, older tribute, his simple outfit practically screaming Ten all over it, forcing the blonde boy to edge closer to the tree girl making the atmosphere a bit more cramped.

Next had been when the four of them had arrived on the fourth floor, and the girl in the flashy getup -a jellyfish, Tyler only now realized- had attempted to leave. Attempted being the key word, for both the girl's jellyfish tendrils and the tree girl's branches had apparently decided that she was going nowhere, having gotten tangled up with each other as the former had made her way to the exit.

The smaller girl had been yanked backwards, causing her body to bend back at a rather crazy angle, and tree girl had been forced to plant her feet to compensate. Kind of like an actual tree. The former was now moving her hands in some strange signal, and whether it had some deeper meaning or not was completely lost on the blonde boy.

The tree girl looked mildly annoyed, and Tyler made out an expression of annoyance on her otherwise attractive features as she struggled to deal with the rapid change of events. Without the use of her arms, getting herself free from the jellyfish tendrils would be nigh impossible in the forseeable future.

As the blonde boy moved forward, the tree girl rather abruptly twisted to face him, confusion now mixing with annoyance on her face. Before the former could inquire about what said confusion was really about, however, he felt a strong tug on the back of his vest, and abruptly jerked to a stop, much like the smaller girl had earlier.

Twisting his head around, Tyler could make out the shape of one of the tree girl's stray branches thoroughly embedded in the mess of wires that made the back of his vest. Before he could react to such a predicament, tree girl reacted first, awkwardly trying to detangle herself from the vest. However, such a move only served to make matters worse, and the blonde boy winced as another pair of branches jabbed him, one grazing and getting entangled in the wires on his right arm, and the other joining its cousin in his back, albeit a few inches lower.

And then he was stuck. Truly, completely, utterly, stuck.

credit to darsypoo uwu

credit to fireflyz!

credit to stare!

mat
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malfunction | Cam/Mattio/Lance | Oct 8, 2015 17:45:20 GMT -5

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Post by mat on Oct 8, 2015 17:45:20 GMT -5

[googlefont="Astloch:400"]

rodrick benstaloe

As the door had finally come to a close, there was a total of four people in the elevator. Three of which look crazily dressed, and then there’s me, who looks to be in simpler attire. None of them speak. They are as silent as a mute person. Am I the only person trying to be nice in this elevator? The girl with tentacles streaming down her pressed the four. I can’t exactly put my finger on what she is, but it has to be something aquatic.

A ball of wires, a dark oak tree, and tentacles are all that I see. Even with myself standing in front of them, I can still see the twig branches and threads of gray without even needing to look back at them. Two blondes, and a girl with short reddish-brown hair. All of them look to be younger, but it could just be that they have more petite family genetics. Genetics. Does living in a constant dream run in my genes? Am I a mutation of some sort? If there is something different about me, at least I can call myself unique in comparison to Rodney.

A ding comes out of the elevator and a door opens, and the first girl to head out is the one with shorter hair. She pushes herself forward, but even then, she flies backwards, wrapped in wires and tentacles. I laugh. Maybe they’re just silly, but they seem like they’re in a bit of a kerfuffle.

I don’t want any tribute bonding. I just want to get up to the floor and dream about dreams. I don’t want to stand next to these people for ages. If they keep up their stupid act of getting stuck together, then I’ll gladly walk out and wait for them to sort it out. I don’t want to get caught in a bullshit mess. I move to the corner, hoping not to get wrapped into things, no pun intended.

At least this part of my dream has more comedy.