10-07-2019, 01:00 AM
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TRIBUTES:
District 1 - Quinton De Loutherbergh, Ambrose De Loutherbergh
District 2 - Lizbet Von-Elster, Wolf Kafka
District 3 - Isadora Maloré, Cato Marconi
District 4 - Stevie Sealock, River Kore
District 5 - Rizzo Fenton, Aiden Murphy
District 6 - Augusta O'Riley, Daniel Summers
District 7 - Birdie Pierce, Casper Bates
District 8 - Morra Whitney, Dan Brown
District 9 - Hadley Morton, Thorne Harkness
District 10 - Scout Mcalester, Cameron Stevens
District 11 - Crane Ballarat, Ollie Oxenfield
District 12 - Greta Walsh, Franklin Pax
citizens of Panem! a special announcement regarding this year's Hunger Games: Due to the recent outbreak of the Hatchet Plague and the tragic deaths it left in its wake, we have decided to expand the age of those eligible for the Reaping! we honor those who succumbed to the disease and have decided the reaping age for this year is now 13 through 26! this ensures we will have enough tributes for this year's games. may the odds be ever in your favor!"
"Quinton De Loutherbergh." the name rings out into the crowd, as many of the kids turn to look at the boy with curly hair standing with his family of six. Quinton looks down at his feet before his father taps his shoulder, a signal to raise his head proudly, Quinton does so, only in obedience, he is not proud of this. He flashes a smile and walks away from his family. "Ambrose De Loutherbergh". Ambrose, Quinton's older sister, tries to hold back a small smirk. Quinton's oldest sister Eliza barely has time to raise her hand to volunteer before her older brother Caspian grabs it and holds it to her side, digging his nails into her wrist. Ambrose lightly touches her shoulder to her twin Alexander's, a signal they've been using since they were little. she does not need to be told to hold her head up, she has everything to be proud of. Quinton can't hear the crowd celebrate, his eyes keep meeting Eliza's and her's are fighting tears.
Lizbet marched to the stage and smiled when Wolf Kafka was called. many kids did not want to train with them, and for good reason. Wolf was decisive, quick, merciless. Lizbet was clever, calculating, and loved games. she could not have been given a better partner. it was too bad that he was going to die. Lizbet had already begun calculating her victory.
"Isadora Maloré." for a second too long no one moved, then a girl in a blood-red dress calmly walked forward. her glide was smooth enough to convince viewers she was floating. her face was expressionless: she had seen a lot of people die, what was 23 more? the name that followed belonged to a scrawny looking fifteen-year-old, who, upon being called, almost burst into tears in his father's arms. his father held him but was eventually forced to let go as Cato Marconi was ushered away. People tried not to focus on Cato, most children don't cry when chosen for the games. Isadora is cheered for but her expression doesn't shift.
Stevie Sealock and River Kore walk up to the stage, both looking out into the square and past out to the ocean, both trying not to think that it will be their last time. Stevie and River had little familiarity with each other but had heard of the other in passing. River was often the talk of the market or the docks because of his voice, while Stevie was known as the girl who wanted to sword fight. Stevie tried not to think about possibly having to watch River die, his voice was so lovely. She looked at her mother and grandmother in the crowd. Her mother had a small smile knowing all her daughter's sword fighting was going to be of use but her grandmother had tear marks down her cheeks—she was one of the only people left who still remembered a time without the Games. The crowd cheered for them but their sentiment were empty.
Rizzo Fenton left the side of her mother and stepfather without saying a word. she held her wrist to make sure the cameras didn't see the bruise her stepfather had left there. Aiden Murphy followed shortly after, and behind him was resolute silence.
Augusta O'Riley and Daniel Summers stood next to each other and nodded in the other's direction. Daniel was the last person anyone would've thought to ger reaped yet there he was. bright blue hair not at all helping his case. Augusta had hair like fire and a temper to match, the people knew this much: she had a chance.
her worst nightmare had come true. "Birdie Pierce." someone audibly gasped on the boy's side of the crowd. she had seen this in her dreams and now it was happening. she couldn't move for a second, she couldn't breathe. "Birdie Pierce." it was called again. people were looking at her now, eyes full of pity. Birdie Pierce was the cute girl with the short curly hair who lived in the north side of the woods and now she was being sent to die. Someone—a peacekeeper—grabbed her arm and moved her forward. Birdie followed suddenly very aware of her fate. she looked desperately for Casper, for anyone but suddenly she didn't recognize anyone around her. she couldn't see anyone—every face was empty. "Oak Barrow—" "I volunteer!" a poor barley thirteen Oak turned around to look at his savior but instead of meeting some idiot's face he only saw a worn twenty-five-year-old Casper, looking at Birdie.
Morra Whitney was being held around the shoulders in the mere moments before being dragged on stage by a peacekeeper. "Josh, Josh please don't let them take me, please Josh, please" she kept whispering as she was pulled away from her surrogate father. Josh tried to keep hold of her, tried desperately looking at other people, begging for someone to do something but he couldn't. Dan Brown was called after and trudged to his spot, sleep-deprived and tired. The older woman who owned the shop he worked in looked suddenly very annoyed that she would now have to find a replacement, his mother stood still.
Hadley Morton had to be pulled away from her father. she tried not to think about the truth of the matter but it was useless. Her mind worked too fast for her not to consider every single thing that was about to happen and how she was likely never going to see him again. She looked at her father when she was on stage and could hear his voice in her head when he mouthed "I love you, moon" from the crowd. She nodded and kept trying to smile. her father racked his brian for how this could've happened. her name was in there once, just once. Thorne was called after. For a moment no one moved but all eyes went to the boy of 6'2 wearing black, his fate had been sealed.
Scout Mcalester finally confessed her feelings to the boy she liked. She did it the day before her reaping. She regretted not telling him sooner. Cameron Stevens was pushed forward by his older and younger brother, his mother trying to cry but unable to: better the middle child than Jacob or Marcus.
the young girl Ollie fainted as soon she got on stage and was still clutching the side of her coat like it was a lifeline even while unconscious. the next name called created a quiet stir in the crowd. no one knew he even had a last name until it rang out across the square. "Crane Ballarat." there were no other Ballarats other than Crane. he had limbs like a willow tree and almost black eyes. there weren't supposed to be any Ballarats left.
Greta Walsh was almost nineteen and had finally bought her typewriter on the black market. she had been writing on any surface she could since she was little. she covered old pieces of wood and paper and parcels with observations and stories. she filled the world around her with words, and now she had none. after Greta came Frankie. Frankie and his sisters were the last of the Paxes. there was no one to be sad when his name was called. his sisters had managed to escape the district's outskirts and work in the city—if you could call it that. they watched the twenty-five-year-old walk up to the man with the blue-dyed hair holding the paper with his name on it. his name was in the large glass bowl 30 times, mostly to make up for his sisters' absence. you could sometimes pull off things like that if you knew the right peacekeeper. his sisters hadn't spoken to him in years, they said nothing now either.
happy hunger games! and may the odds be ever in your favor!
a
[div style="0px; width:400px; height:auto; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt; line-height:13px;"]the 45th hunger games - violence for violence: the reapingTRIBUTES:
District 1 - Quinton De Loutherbergh, Ambrose De Loutherbergh
District 2 - Lizbet Von-Elster, Wolf Kafka
District 3 - Isadora Maloré, Cato Marconi
District 4 - Stevie Sealock, River Kore
District 5 - Rizzo Fenton, Aiden Murphy
District 6 - Augusta O'Riley, Daniel Summers
District 7 - Birdie Pierce, Casper Bates
District 8 - Morra Whitney, Dan Brown
District 9 - Hadley Morton, Thorne Harkness
District 10 - Scout Mcalester, Cameron Stevens
District 11 - Crane Ballarat, Ollie Oxenfield
District 12 - Greta Walsh, Franklin Pax
citizens of Panem! a special announcement regarding this year's Hunger Games: Due to the recent outbreak of the Hatchet Plague and the tragic deaths it left in its wake, we have decided to expand the age of those eligible for the Reaping! we honor those who succumbed to the disease and have decided the reaping age for this year is now 13 through 26! this ensures we will have enough tributes for this year's games. may the odds be ever in your favor!"
"Quinton De Loutherbergh." the name rings out into the crowd, as many of the kids turn to look at the boy with curly hair standing with his family of six. Quinton looks down at his feet before his father taps his shoulder, a signal to raise his head proudly, Quinton does so, only in obedience, he is not proud of this. He flashes a smile and walks away from his family. "Ambrose De Loutherbergh". Ambrose, Quinton's older sister, tries to hold back a small smirk. Quinton's oldest sister Eliza barely has time to raise her hand to volunteer before her older brother Caspian grabs it and holds it to her side, digging his nails into her wrist. Ambrose lightly touches her shoulder to her twin Alexander's, a signal they've been using since they were little. she does not need to be told to hold her head up, she has everything to be proud of. Quinton can't hear the crowd celebrate, his eyes keep meeting Eliza's and her's are fighting tears.
Lizbet marched to the stage and smiled when Wolf Kafka was called. many kids did not want to train with them, and for good reason. Wolf was decisive, quick, merciless. Lizbet was clever, calculating, and loved games. she could not have been given a better partner. it was too bad that he was going to die. Lizbet had already begun calculating her victory.
"Isadora Maloré." for a second too long no one moved, then a girl in a blood-red dress calmly walked forward. her glide was smooth enough to convince viewers she was floating. her face was expressionless: she had seen a lot of people die, what was 23 more? the name that followed belonged to a scrawny looking fifteen-year-old, who, upon being called, almost burst into tears in his father's arms. his father held him but was eventually forced to let go as Cato Marconi was ushered away. People tried not to focus on Cato, most children don't cry when chosen for the games. Isadora is cheered for but her expression doesn't shift.
Stevie Sealock and River Kore walk up to the stage, both looking out into the square and past out to the ocean, both trying not to think that it will be their last time. Stevie and River had little familiarity with each other but had heard of the other in passing. River was often the talk of the market or the docks because of his voice, while Stevie was known as the girl who wanted to sword fight. Stevie tried not to think about possibly having to watch River die, his voice was so lovely. She looked at her mother and grandmother in the crowd. Her mother had a small smile knowing all her daughter's sword fighting was going to be of use but her grandmother had tear marks down her cheeks—she was one of the only people left who still remembered a time without the Games. The crowd cheered for them but their sentiment were empty.
Rizzo Fenton left the side of her mother and stepfather without saying a word. she held her wrist to make sure the cameras didn't see the bruise her stepfather had left there. Aiden Murphy followed shortly after, and behind him was resolute silence.
Augusta O'Riley and Daniel Summers stood next to each other and nodded in the other's direction. Daniel was the last person anyone would've thought to ger reaped yet there he was. bright blue hair not at all helping his case. Augusta had hair like fire and a temper to match, the people knew this much: she had a chance.
her worst nightmare had come true. "Birdie Pierce." someone audibly gasped on the boy's side of the crowd. she had seen this in her dreams and now it was happening. she couldn't move for a second, she couldn't breathe. "Birdie Pierce." it was called again. people were looking at her now, eyes full of pity. Birdie Pierce was the cute girl with the short curly hair who lived in the north side of the woods and now she was being sent to die. Someone—a peacekeeper—grabbed her arm and moved her forward. Birdie followed suddenly very aware of her fate. she looked desperately for Casper, for anyone but suddenly she didn't recognize anyone around her. she couldn't see anyone—every face was empty. "Oak Barrow—" "I volunteer!" a poor barley thirteen Oak turned around to look at his savior but instead of meeting some idiot's face he only saw a worn twenty-five-year-old Casper, looking at Birdie.
Morra Whitney was being held around the shoulders in the mere moments before being dragged on stage by a peacekeeper. "Josh, Josh please don't let them take me, please Josh, please" she kept whispering as she was pulled away from her surrogate father. Josh tried to keep hold of her, tried desperately looking at other people, begging for someone to do something but he couldn't. Dan Brown was called after and trudged to his spot, sleep-deprived and tired. The older woman who owned the shop he worked in looked suddenly very annoyed that she would now have to find a replacement, his mother stood still.
Hadley Morton had to be pulled away from her father. she tried not to think about the truth of the matter but it was useless. Her mind worked too fast for her not to consider every single thing that was about to happen and how she was likely never going to see him again. She looked at her father when she was on stage and could hear his voice in her head when he mouthed "I love you, moon" from the crowd. She nodded and kept trying to smile. her father racked his brian for how this could've happened. her name was in there once, just once. Thorne was called after. For a moment no one moved but all eyes went to the boy of 6'2 wearing black, his fate had been sealed.
Scout Mcalester finally confessed her feelings to the boy she liked. She did it the day before her reaping. She regretted not telling him sooner. Cameron Stevens was pushed forward by his older and younger brother, his mother trying to cry but unable to: better the middle child than Jacob or Marcus.
the young girl Ollie fainted as soon she got on stage and was still clutching the side of her coat like it was a lifeline even while unconscious. the next name called created a quiet stir in the crowd. no one knew he even had a last name until it rang out across the square. "Crane Ballarat." there were no other Ballarats other than Crane. he had limbs like a willow tree and almost black eyes. there weren't supposed to be any Ballarats left.
Greta Walsh was almost nineteen and had finally bought her typewriter on the black market. she had been writing on any surface she could since she was little. she covered old pieces of wood and paper and parcels with observations and stories. she filled the world around her with words, and now she had none. after Greta came Frankie. Frankie and his sisters were the last of the Paxes. there was no one to be sad when his name was called. his sisters had managed to escape the district's outskirts and work in the city—if you could call it that. they watched the twenty-five-year-old walk up to the man with the blue-dyed hair holding the paper with his name on it. his name was in the large glass bowl 30 times, mostly to make up for his sisters' absence. you could sometimes pull off things like that if you knew the right peacekeeper. his sisters hadn't spoken to him in years, they said nothing now either.
happy hunger games! and may the odds be ever in your favor!
[align=center][div style="width: auto; font-size: 9pt; font-family: arial; color: black; letter-spacing: 1px;"][i]etherial, almost ghostly ― [color=black]info