CuteLikeMurder
Staff Member
Gamemaker (HG Mod)
As if killing the bard impresses us.
Posts: 2,268
|
Post by CuteLikeMurder on Dec 1, 2013 23:28:58 GMT -5
The morning came in District Four. It was a cloudless morning and the warmth in the early hours foretold that the day would be a hot one. The air held the scent of the life-giving sea. But the docks were like a ghost town. Today marked another year where two of their children would be given to the Battle.
The square as a filled with a soft sand that was almost white. Most of the people were either barefoot or wore sandals. Their attire was loose and functional, the colors muted browns, creams, and greys. Braids showed only on some of them. The older ones for their service in the failed rebellion. Others that had lost people to the Battle. And a few that grew up orphans. Almost everyone of age for the Reaping displayed their Tlaloc proudly on their upper arms. It was a sign that they kept with the Old Ways. A sign that they had been drowned in the sight of the One and their people and brought back better and strong.
The girls took their places, as did the boys. Arranging themselves in order by age; youngest in the front. The district escort took the stage (a new one from the year before wearing what she thought had been the style of it's citizens. But it made her only stand out more as an outsider. And no one paid attention to her even when she spoke.
“Welcome. Welcome to the 28th Annual Hunger Games! And now for a special message from our beloved president.”
“War... Terrible war...”
No one looked up to the screen. Most were still chatting with their neighbors. They had seen it many times over. And some had lived through the Rebellion. What was being shown and told to them was a lie. And they knew it.
Even when the escort tapped on the mic again, no one paid her any attention. It wasn't until the Victors made their procession onto the stage did people stop and take notice. For these are the ones that offered themselves up the Battle only to survive it. The Victors deserved respect because they had paid the iron price for their victories. But this escort had not.
Coraline was first, in something light and billowy; her expression serene, calm. Nettle wore a subtle smirk with a mischievous glint in her eyes. He was dressed in a way that showed him off. He was a pretty man and he knew how to play to his strengths, while still keeping true to District Four, his home. Only Hyperion looked out of place, as he was wearing bright colors, his hair colored slightly. A Victor that had accepted what the Capitol had been pushing on him. And unlike Nettle and Coraline, he wore no braid, and his Tlaloc was discarded years ago.
“Welcome the Victors of District Four, including our newest Victor, Zale Sewell!”
|
|
QuinnTalon
Staff Member
Gamemaker (HG MOD)
For those who fight for it, life has a flavor the sheltered will never know.
Posts: 1,351
|
Post by QuinnTalon on Dec 2, 2013 0:10:59 GMT -5
[/u][/i][/size][/url] "One does not win a Battle. One merely survives it. We have only survived one battle, Olivia. Our war? That is just starting."[/color][/center][/font][/size] "It is too hot for these. And for that. This One will not be wearing it." He held up his hands. Fingerless gloves. And long sleeves. He'd pointedly discarded the top layer he was wearing--a long coat that had him looking like a pirate in a story--and the gloves. Underneath, however, he could deal with. A sleeveless tunic that was of an oddly airy material--heavy but not hot--in white and liberally trimmed in silver. It buttoned up to his neck, but it left his arms bare. There were faint, faint scars along his arms and he still wore his Tlaloc on his upper arm. Riva's on his lower--her's was far too small otherwise--as a symbol that he not only lived for himself, but he lived for her as well. The pants were black and somewhat snug, and beneath the were boots that he would be removing the moment he was allowed. He'd rather sandals. Or barefeet. He was pushing it with the jacket and the gloves, so he allowed them to line his eyes and dust his cheeks with the silliness they called 'make-up'. At least there was a pouch for his cards. They always had that on his clothing now. They'd trimmed his hair and hadn't touched the braid. He'd have murdered them with his bare hands and they knew it. "Victor, it's just a jacket....""This One's name is Zale. It means 'Power of The Sea'. Please use it." He didn't snap. He really didn't. These people were just on his last nerve right now. His very, very last nerve. After what those had pulled with Olivia and CJ, he was very upset. With all of them. He didn't glare at the woman so much as he blinked very slowly at her as he came onto the stage. He was by far the youngest of the others, and not at all the most eye-catching. He wasn't beautiful the way others were. Nettle was lovely. Coraline was airy and bright. Hyperion was ruthless. But Zale? Zale knew he was something else altogether. Which was why, when he got up onto the stage and looked at the little woman who was doing her utmost to get them excited about their people going to their deaths, he turned toward the others. Toward those waiting for the names to be called... ...No names had been called last year. He and Riva had volunteered together, their hands clasped, fists raised....He raised one fist--his right fist--into the air and said it aloud. "What is dead may never die."...But rises again, harder and strongerHe heard her say it. He could swear he heard her say it. The way she always had. He began a thought, and Riva... ...Riva would finish it. This was no different.
|
|
CuteLikeMurder
Staff Member
Gamemaker (HG Mod)
As if killing the bard impresses us.
Posts: 2,268
|
Post by CuteLikeMurder on Dec 2, 2013 0:19:04 GMT -5
“But raises again, harder and stronger...”
The Escort tried to carry on gracefully. “And now for our tributes… We will start with the girls first.”
A fist reminded up as the others put their arms down. She was in the very back, which might this was her last Reaping. If she wasn't picked she would have been free of this. But still her first reminded raised above her head.
She was a stocky girl with dark olive skin and eyes the color of the sea. Her dark hair was up, displaying a single braid. She had lost family before. Her face was stoic borderlining on solemn.
“I volunteer.” Her voice boomed over the hush of crowd as she didn't even wait for the Peacekeepers to collect her before she took her place on stage.
“This one is called Kaliani Maris. I am of the salt and sea. And I offer myself to the Battle,” she said to the Escort.
“Well, it's becoming a common occurrence in District Four for at least one volunteer to come to the stage before the first name is drawn,” she said in her usual clipped voice. “Why did you volunteer?”
“Because it was my destiny. The One gives us Purpose,” Kaliani replied, stoically. “It is our responsibility to see it through. It is Known.”
The crowd echoed her. “It is Known.”
“Well, there you have it,” the Escort said almost happily. To those that could read her body language, she was a ball of nervous energy. Kaliani's volunteering echoed Riva Eldyn and Zale Sewell's Reaping only just the year before. And that was... troubling. Her hand trembled as it hovered over the globe. She dipped her hand into it and pulled out the piece of paper. She read the name aloud.
“MORGAN DELMARA!”
Instantly, there were whispers. “The Healer’s son.” And “Poor Dylan…” The camera that feed into the large screen near the stage broadcasted Morgan’s face, it was an almost tranquil mask, showing no fear.
|
|
QuinnTalon
Staff Member
Gamemaker (HG MOD)
For those who fight for it, life has a flavor the sheltered will never know.
Posts: 1,351
|
Post by QuinnTalon on Dec 2, 2013 1:16:56 GMT -5
[/u][/i][/size][/url] "He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." [/color][/center][/font][/size] "We are late, Dylan."
"We are not late." He was watching Morgan move around their little house. The house that tonight they'd come back to permanently. They'd promised each other that last night Morgan would spend it at his own home, but that hadn't happened.
Morgan was just a tiny bit angry with him about that. Just a tiny bit, though he looked over his shoulder at Dylan as he shrugged on his ritual jacket. Dylan had smiled.
And Morgan rolled his eyes at him. "You're an idiot, Cielo." It was said fondly, even as his lover tossed his pants and jacket at him. A distinct white and dark brown to Morgan's cream and blue.
Dylan scowled at him, standing and letting the thin blanket fall as he slid his arms into his jacket and pulled his pants on. He slid the sandals he'd been wearing yesterday on, and turned only to have Morgan slide his hands up his arms, resting on his biceps and smirking. "But you are my idiot."
"It is known." Morgan was right. They'd very nearly been late, still straightening their jackets as their blood-samples were taken and then Morgan grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the back. It was their last year, after all, and after this tedious thing they'd be free to be together. And then Zale was on the stage, his fist in the air and everyone else did the same. It was the way of things here. Zale was one of The Living Dead, and he deserved that respect. "But rises again. Harder and stronger." Their hands remained up, and then when they lowered them Morgan's fingers laced through his again. But one hand hadn't gone down, and he knew that girl. Kaliani Maris. He vaguely remembered her father--back then--offering him a cup of water in an attempt to get him out of his hiding place. Dylan had been dehydrated and nearly delirious, but he hadn't taken it. He'd wanted it, but hadn't taken it. Mama had told him to stay where he was until she came for him. He swallowed, watching Kaliani step onto the stage and repeat the same thing that Zale and Riva had said last year. Word for word. Sentiment for Sentiment. It is known.He squeezed Morgan's hand when that woman waved her hand over the boy's bowl. When she plucked the name out and when she unfolded the paper. Morgan Delmara. At first, he didn't think he heard it correctly. He had to blink a few times, and the camera had found Morgan in the crowd. He was standing next to his lover, and Morgan looked resolute and stoic and...beautiful. Brave and beautiful, and his hand tightened in Dylan's as the Men in White came for him. As he heard their boots.... ...he'd heard those boots before. Above his head and loud--so loud--and they were trying to take him away. One of them grasped Morgan's arm, and Dylan coudl hear them. Hear the people around them whispering. 'Poor Dylan' and 'Hasn't he paid enough?' and other things that were thoughtless. Morgan stood there, his hand clasped in Dylan's. And Dylan couldn't breathe. It was like drowning. He remembered the feeling of water filling his lungs, and it was very like that. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't do anything but grasp at Morgan's hand and those in white had him too. Were pulling him away and holding him and other boys were trying to get to them to get them off of Dylan. Because Dylan had already sacrificed enough. Suddenly, it angered him. Why was he untouchable? Why? His arm was stretched, and his fingertips were straining, and he said the only thing he knew he could say to keep them from taking Morgan from him. To keep them from taking the only person he had left in the world. "No! No! I Volunteer! For the Battles! I Volunteer." I can not live without you. I can't lose anyone else. Not again.
|
|
CuteLikeMurder
Staff Member
Gamemaker (HG Mod)
As if killing the bard impresses us.
Posts: 2,268
|
Post by CuteLikeMurder on Dec 2, 2013 1:53:30 GMT -5
The whole square stopped. Time had slowed to a crawl. Everyone was trying to figure out what was going on. Even Nettle and Hyperion stood to see what had just happened. But Coraline knew. She knew the Joneses, vaguely. And Delmaras as well. Neither of them deserved this. But there’s was not to question why. The One gives us purposed and we must obey. Still, Morgan Delmara pushed the first few peacekeepers that came for Dylan away. They wouldn’t rob them of this moment. Morgan’s eyes blazed with rage. He’d hurt them if they took a step closer. He quickly turned to Dylan. “You are mine. And I am yours. In this life and the next, you and I are bonded in the light of the One. It is known.” And then Morgan kissed Dylan. For once he wasn’t concerned with the people watching. Morgan was a private person, public displays wasn’t his style. But Panem needed to know that Dylan was loved and that he was needed at home. “Dylan Jones, you will come home.”After that Morgan was ripped away from Dylan before guns were jabbed in Dylan’s back. “Move,” one of the Peacekeepers barked. The Escort smiled. But it was easy to see two volunteers was not what was expected of District Four. At least after last year. “What’s you name?” she asked, glancing over to Morgan. “And who was that handsome young man?” Congrats! Credits have been added to your account.
+50 for Volunteering
|
|
QuinnTalon
Staff Member
Gamemaker (HG MOD)
For those who fight for it, life has a flavor the sheltered will never know.
Posts: 1,351
|
Post by QuinnTalon on Dec 2, 2013 2:31:30 GMT -5
[/u][/i][/size][/url] "He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." [/color][/center][/font][/size] Most of the public displays were because Dylan was tactile, and it never moved passed holding hands or linking arms. Never had they done more than that in view of others, so Morgan kissing him--in front of the entirety of Panem--was a decently large deal. They parted, and Dylan took a deep, shaking breath. "You are mine, and I am your's. We will meet again...in this Life, or in The Light of The One. It is Known."He didn't stop himself from glaring over his shoulder at the man who prodded him in the back, though he wasn't Morgan. Dylan didn't have the ability to stare down monsters the way Morgan did. He spent too much time smiling to be able to do such a thing. But the sentiment was there, and Dylan straightened his jacket and moved to the stage, stepping up onto it and trying desperately to keep the fear out of his voice. Off of his face. And he did the only thing he could do to manage it. He smiled. Shakily at first, but all he had to do was find Morgan in the group--surrounded by Peacekeepers as he was--and he was able to do it. "This One is Dylan Lee Jones." He swallowed. "Son of Noah and Celeste Jones."Both of whom were dead. Both of whom were rebels who'd disappeared. Everyone knew that. Everyone here in the District, and Dylan was their only surviving child. "And he is Morgan Delmara. El un que fue hecho para ti."Striking Looks 2 (Obliviously Handsome)
|
|
QuinnTalon
Staff Member
Gamemaker (HG MOD)
For those who fight for it, life has a flavor the sheltered will never know.
Posts: 1,351
|
Post by QuinnTalon on Dec 2, 2013 2:44:51 GMT -5
[/u][/i][/size][/url] "One does not win a Battle. One merely survives it. We have only survived one battle, Olivia. Our war? That is just starting."[/color][/center][/font][/size] The girl Kaliani reminded him painfully of himself. Of Riva. She did not know what waited for her in The Godless Place. He still had nightmares. He probably always would. But there was the boy: Dylan. Dylan Jones, and Zale was trying to get a glimpse of the boy himself--just as Hyperion and Nettle were. Coraline knew the Joneses. Zale had only heard rumors. Rumors were enough. It was in how he moved. Anyone not of The Sea likely wouldn't see it, but Zale could. Most here were trained for Battle if only in case of their imminent choosing. No one under the age of fifteen feared this day, and anyone over that age could be confident in their ability to survive it. Sacrifice, after all, was what they were. But Dylan...he didn't move like the others. His steps were graceful, balanced, but not nearly as 'trained' as others were. Had his name been pulled from those bowls all these years, this boy had no fear of ever actually having to fight for his life. His family--if the rumors were true--were unanimously considered to have given enough to The Cause. The Capitol loved their Volunteers, however, and Dylan could not escape now. But The One speaks, and they all heed. Dylan's trials were not over and never would be. The One Speaks.... ...And all they could do was their duty. In their language, Zale spoke. To the other Living Dead of The Sea. "The girl is a Warrior. The boy...he is not." Not in the strictest sense, but he wore a braid--just as the girl did. It meant... ...They knew loss. They knew pain. Perhaps all was hope was not lost.
|
|
CuteLikeMurder
Staff Member
Gamemaker (HG Mod)
As if killing the bard impresses us.
Posts: 2,268
|
Post by CuteLikeMurder on Dec 2, 2013 15:33:43 GMT -5
“El un... que fue... hecho... para ti?...” Every word was a question. The Escort's accent was forced but she did better than most. “I don't under... Oh, oh I see... Interesting. We can all remember Caleb and Olivia from District Six last year. Olivia volunteering for Caleb's sister. Caleb throwing himself into the Games so Olivia didn't have to go through this alone. It's a shame you two won't have that. But I happen to know a few people on District Four's style team and they will be thrilled to have both of you in the Capitol for the Feast.”
She took a step back from the both Dylan and Kali.
“Well shake hands.”
Kali met Dylan at the center of the stage and she took hold of his forearm as they did in District Four, pulling him into a half embrace. The warriors' embrace. She whispered. “The One has charged me to be your shield, Dylan Jones. Our trial begins now. But the One is in the Rain and we made of the Rain. It is known.”
Then she did Dylan a favor she raised his arm with hers. Presenting him as a warrior poised for battle.
The escort clapped. “Kaliani Maris and Dylan Jones! The District Four Tributes for the 28th Hunger Games!”
No one cheered. Instead a single fist rose in the crowd. Morgan's intense gaze burned through the escort. Then another fist rose. And another. And another. Everyone's fist was raised.
“What is dead may never die...”
“BUT RISES AGAIN, HARDER AND STRONGER.”
Nettle was sitting enjoying the show. Say what you will about District Four they knew how to put on a show. And Nettle loved every minute of it. Hyperion was fighting his nature, trying to look supportive but to anyone that knew him he was annoyed. Only Coraline looked over to Zale and nodded.
“The girl is a warrior of the light. Her family, they would have trained her well...” She glanced at Dylan, her eyes watering only slightly. “The boy has given so much already. She will do what she can to bring the boy home. Her honor will not allow for a different outcome.”
|
|
QuinnTalon
Staff Member
Gamemaker (HG MOD)
For those who fight for it, life has a flavor the sheltered will never know.
Posts: 1,351
|
Post by QuinnTalon on Dec 2, 2013 19:42:59 GMT -5
[/u][/i][/size][/url] "He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." [/color][/center][/font][/size] "I am never alone. The One is with me."He clasped Kaliani's arm, though was shocked when she pulled him forward into the Warrior's Embrace. Her words had him choking just a little, and he knew then that she knew. He wasn't a Warrior as Zale and Riva and she was. He was just a boy. Just a boy who worked on the docks, but who had lost everything. Everything except one thing. One person. He couldn't stand to lose that too. And then Morgan. Morgan silently raised his fist, glaring at the escort in a way that even Dylan had never really seen. Morgan was a creature of intensity, but Dylan had always been on the better side of that intensity. On the 'I love you more than my own life' side of that intensity. It quickened his heart. He could never breathe when Morgan's eyes would meet his, and yet he could never, ever look away. They all said it. Aloud. All the raised fists with the entirety of their home behind them. And Kaliani, calling herself his shield. By The One...what had he gotten himself into? Striking Looks 2 (Obliviously Handsome) [/quote]
|
|
CuteLikeMurder
Staff Member
Gamemaker (HG Mod)
As if killing the bard impresses us.
Posts: 2,268
|
Post by CuteLikeMurder on Dec 2, 2013 23:10:42 GMT -5
“Two warriors for the battle. We all saw Zale. It wasn't a tribute from District One or Two that was crowned. But here. No one gives us our crown. We earn it, with blood and steel. It is known.” Nettle said, not the crowd but to the cameras. Kali nodded. “It is known.” “Well, there we have,” said the escort. “We all remember last year. We all remember Zale's prowess in the Arena. These two will no doubt go far in the arena.” Peacekeepers began to lead Dylan and Kaliani but Coraline stopped them. “The time will be brief but you will see your loved ones again. Steel yourselves. You are no longer children and the Battle awaits.” Congrats more credits have been added to your account. +10 for Nettle's plug. (For Dylan it's 15 for Striking Looks 2) Nettle rolled 12 dice to "Charm" 6,9,2,7,1,1,5,5,4,3,7,5 (1 successes)
|
|