CuteLikeMurder
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As if killing the bard impresses us.
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Post by CuteLikeMurder on Dec 2, 2013 0:12:22 GMT -5
The morning came, heat rising as the sun spilled over the mountains and flooded the fields below. It was just myrid of golds, browns, reds, and oranges. Summer in District Nine was always a beautiful one.
The square was quiet, a gently breeze from the west kept everyone from complaining about the heat. Because hey, at least it wasn’t humid.
The citizens were all well-groomed and in their Sunday best. Some even wore smiles. Why? Because that was how District Nine faced the Games, head on. And these were a people that wouldn’t go into the Arena terrified. They were a noble people. Humble and kind. But almost fearless.
The Escort took the stage wearing something she had thought was very district nine, only it made her look like a caricature of a person. Like she wasn’t real.
“Welcome. Welcome to the 28th Annual Hunger Games! And now for a special message from our beloved president.”
“War... Terrible war...”
The kids started to whisper amongst themselves. The adults too. And when the vid ended everyone knew the Victors were going to be called onto stage. Lyme and Jan.
“We welcome our Victors.”
Most cheered. A few girls called out “WE LOVE YOU, JAN!”
“And now for our tributes,” the Escort said. “We will start with the girls first.”
“MAXINE COLTON!”
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QuinnTalon
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For those who fight for it, life has a flavor the sheltered will never know.
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Post by QuinnTalon on Dec 2, 2013 9:59:21 GMT -5
[/SIZE] "Who is it that chooses our steps in the dance? Who drives us mad? Lashes us with whips and crowns us with victory when we survive the impossible? Who is it, that does all of these things?"Who honors those we love for the very life we live? Who sends monsters to kill us, and at the same time sings that we will never die? Who teaches us what's real and how to laugh at lies? Who decides why we live and what we'll die to defend? Who chains us? And Who holds the key that can set us free... It's You. You have all the weapons you need. Now Fight! "[/color][/font][/center] They didn't dress him like a fisherman. Thank The One. And he was definitely in his black. Thank The One for that too. Black and blue today, which worried him. Usually they dressed him to match Ember, giving him red accents to highlight whatever blood-red thing they had her in. Today, it was blue. Blue had been Jace's color. Blue and cream was what they'd often put him in when he was in front of the cameras, though Jace's eyes had never been lined this intensely, nor had they did to his hair what they did to Jan's. Jace had always looked like 'the boy next door: Capitol Edition'. Jan looked intense and ruthless and dangerous. Almost feral. But it was still blue. The west wind touched his face even as he waved. People loved him in spite of themselves. It was just the way it was and just the way it would be until he decided he didn't want it anymore. Right now though, he's a shell of himself and he well knows it. They can see it. His parents' death had affected him. Greatly. Some might say 'for the worst'. Because back a person--any person--into a corner and they're going to defend themselves. Back an 'Alpha Wolf' into a corner--with his family huddled behind him--and he became downright deadly. Ruthless. And willing to do whatever it took. He waved though. Smiled. Blew kisses. It was what everyone expected, and when he felt a camera on him he kissed the tips of his fingers and waved to the whole of Panem and The Capitol. Love me, you sons-of-b!tches. Love me.The woman--he knew her decently well, really--waved her hand over the bowl and pulled a name, and his world came tumbling down around him. He didn't even realize he'd stood up until Lyme grabbed his wrist to pull him back down, and his eyes found his little sister. Max. Maxine Colton. What the fresh-frell were these bastards playing at? Max--to her credit--smoothed her dress, and started out into the aisle. The girls had moved from around her but when someone made to grab her arm she glared at the man. That was his little sister. All fire. All burning, raging flame. Sam was standing shell-shocked with his cousin Isaiah. Uncle Ezekiel looked sick. And Jan caught a look at himself on camera and had to turn it off. Because he looked downright murderous. Someone was going to die for this. Slowly. Painfully. They would die for this. Back me into a corner, and watch me tear you apart.Striking Looks 2, Presence 3, Manipulation 3, Subterfuge 3, Persuasion (Charm) 4
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CuteLikeMurder
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As if killing the bard impresses us.
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Post by CuteLikeMurder on Dec 2, 2013 15:56:31 GMT -5
“Three Coltons in the Games. It must be something about you Coltons...” The escort purred. “Maxine, how old are you now?... Oh, right forgive me. I forgot to ask if there is a volunteer. But I'm sure no one here would want to steal the show from a Colton.”
Someone slowly pushed her way to the open aisle in the middle. She was in her mid-teens. Tan skin, honey brown eyes, and brown hair. She' was thin in the same what Max is. And like Max there was a fire in her eyes. Did she understand what she was about to do? No, probably not. All she did know what that once you said the words, you could never go home again.
“I volunteer,” she said with a shrug.
“I'm sorry?” the escort asked.
“I'm Dinah Beryl and I volunteer as tribute,” she replied. “Or are we not doing that anymore?”
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Post by Seryna on Dec 2, 2013 16:24:45 GMT -5
"Yes, the Coltons are something special." Lyme agrees with the escort, smiling at her. Friendly. Acting excited about Max's choosing when all she wanted to do was pitch that bowl into the escort's face.
"Nothing to be sorry about, we have a volunteer. Excellent timing." Lyme smiles to Dinah. "Jan brings something special to the mentor relationship. We can't have him sit out because his sister was chosen, as Branden of district seven did when his own son was chosen. "
"Dinah, come on up. Lets get a look at you."
They were doing things wrong - Max should be brought up to the platform but Lyme was loathe to do that. Loathe to have one image of Max on a platform and broad - casted to all of Panem. All they needed was one interviewer to say something stupid and it could be popular to reap a Colton every year.
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QuinnTalon
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For those who fight for it, life has a flavor the sheltered will never know.
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Post by QuinnTalon on Dec 2, 2013 20:52:14 GMT -5
[/SIZE] "It is only in Darkness that you can see the stars."[/color][/font][/center] Hearing her name hadn't scared her. Of course, she'd flinched. Max had blinked a few times after hearing it, looking around at everyone else to see if she'd heard correctly. She saw Jan--her older brother and protector--stand up as though there were something he could do, and then she'd seen the Peacekeepers. They had called her name. They didn't talk about it. Her or Jan or Sammy. The three of them didn't talk about what it meant to come home to see the house burning down, and Jan never talked about burying their Ma and Pa out in the same field Jace had been buried in. They didn't talk about what it meant or why it had been done. They just didn't. But this? This wasn't an accident. Max well knew it. Which was why rather than be afraid of this, she was angry, and she pressed her dress down a bit more as she walked toward the stage and stepped up onto it. Every step got heavier though. It was a death sentence. She knew it. One in twenty-four got to go home--for the most part. Her brother had died in this. Her other...he still woke screaming. And by the One...Wiss. What would he do? He'd already lost Felix, and his family, and he'd even lost his cousin somewhat when Rory had been forced to move to the Capitol with her new husband. He'd be completely alone, and it broke her heart more than a little. She started to come up, and then someone else...someone she didn't even know, said the words that had saved so many in the past few years. I volunteer.Max just looked at her, blinking in disbelief. If she had an older sister who could volunteer, it would be her responsibility, but Max didn't. Ally had been too old for The Games for two years now, and was pregnant--again. She stepped down from the one step, and the girl was stepping up. Maxine grabbed her hand and squeezed it, and tried to tell her without saying it how much it meant. She'd find her later. In those few minutes she had to say goodbye to her family. Jan..Jan was looking at that girl like she was a savior, and in a way she was. Jan would take care of her as best he could, and Max knew it.
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CuteLikeMurder
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As if killing the bard impresses us.
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Post by CuteLikeMurder on Dec 2, 2013 21:48:34 GMT -5
“Oh, no. Not having Jan be a part of the Games... That would be a nightmare,” the Escort replied. She fought the urge to glare at the volunteer. But Dinah grinned, chuckling to herself.
“Oh so we are still playing by the rules. Good to know.”
The mask fell into place. She was terrified. But Dinah held it together. She was composed, even if her resolve was waning just a bit. And she'd see this through. Or she wouldn't. Either way, Dinah had made her choice.
She hid behind that pointed but sarcastic remark. And as she walked up, she met Jan's eyes for just a moment and nodded.
Then Dinah's eyes fell on Max. She smiled and it was sincere. Still, Dinah's hand trembled in Max's and when the girl met her gaze there was real fear there. But not for herself. She glanced at where her folks were standing, where her older siblings were. She was the youngest, the baby. Even if she had been reaped, she was like Max; there would have been no one to save her too. If she didn't come back she just wanted to make sure there was someone looking out for her family.
The Peacekeepers pushed Dinah and she took a deep breath and let it out. They pushed her again and Dinah rocked forward, and then back, stomping on one of their boots.
“Sorry,” she said, earnestly, like it had been an accident.
“Well...” the escort said. She didn't know what to do. It was clear she was stalling. “Dinah, is it?”
“Yup.”
“Do you know Maxine?”
“Nope.”
“But you volunteered for her?”
“Yup.”
“Why?”
Dinah paused, glancing at Jan and Lyme before she replied with, “Because.”
“Well...”
Dinah held up her hand. “Wait, I think my mentors want to weigh in. What do you think my chances are? You think I've got what it takes?”
Dinah wanted... needed help. She wasn't a fighter. But she needed to play the part.
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QuinnTalon
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For those who fight for it, life has a flavor the sheltered will never know.
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Post by QuinnTalon on Dec 3, 2013 8:49:51 GMT -5
[/SIZE] "Who is it that chooses our steps in the dance? Who drives us mad? Lashes us with whips and crowns us with victory when we survive the impossible? Who is it, that does all of these things?"Who honors those we love for the very life we live? Who sends monsters to kill us, and at the same time sings that we will never die? Who teaches us what's real and how to laugh at lies? Who decides why we live and what we'll die to defend? Who chains us? And Who holds the key that can set us free... It's You. You have all the weapons you need. Now Fight! "[/color][/font][/center] He was going to run himself ragged for these kids this year. He knew it. For the boy, and especially for the girl. A girl who didn't even know his sister, and who had saved her from certain death in the Arena. Or near-certain death. Max was--after all--a Colton. A trained Colton. And trained in a wholly different way than Jan had ever been. "Volunteers from our District always have a good chance, don't you all think?" Jan's eyes looked for the cameras, and he once again kissed his fingers and waved. They loved when he did that. Especially when he smiled. His smile melted people, and he well knew it. "We are District Nine. We are resourceful and we are proud. We will bring home that crown this year. So we sing."Max's eyes trailed over to Dinah's family, and Jan nodded. Regardless of what happened, they would be seen to. He'd make sure they wanted for nothing if Dinah didn't make it home no matter what the cost. She'd saved his sister. And now, it was his turn to put on the mask--to put on a show--and do exactly everything he was good at. 2013-12-03 14:28:23 [HG26] Jan Colton rolled 13 dice to "Playing the Crowd" 1,7,5,10,2,2,3,4,6,4,7,6,8,8 (3 successes)
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CuteLikeMurder
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As if killing the bard impresses us.
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Post by CuteLikeMurder on Dec 4, 2013 11:45:02 GMT -5
“So we sing!” the people in the crowd roared. Dinah’s sacrifice had inspired them. Each of them held up their hands in District 9’s salute. A few were even humming. And most still pledged to drink in Dinah’s honor tonight. The escort looked annoyed but continued. “And now for the boys.” “JACOB DECKER!”A trembling 12 year old glanced at his family. Dinah’s expression turned grim. Not a 12 year old. Anyone but a 12 year old. “I VOLUNTEER!” “Oh, another volunteer. You naturals are as eager as some Careers,” the escort commented. Some jeered. Like Jan said, they were proud and resourceful. They weren’t careers. “Come up here, young man.” A large boy (18; he had to be 18), strode forward. Once he got near Jacob the little boy clung unto his arm. “Eph?” “Go find your Ma and Pa. And don’t worry ‘bout me,” the older boy said. “So tell us about yourself. Why did you volunteer for this boy?” the escort asked. “My name is Ephraim Decker. Jake is my cousin. And he’s the eldest of his siblings. I’m the youngest. And it’s my last year. Seemed like the right thing to do,” he replied. “Oh don’t want him to have the glory, eh?” Ephraim looked at her and shook her head. “Ain’t no glory in the Arena. And once you enter, you can’t never go home ‘gain.” Congrats credits have been added to your tributes’ accounts +30 each for Jan’s plug. So we sing!
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QuinnTalon
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For those who fight for it, life has a flavor the sheltered will never know.
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Post by QuinnTalon on Dec 5, 2013 11:38:14 GMT -5
[/SIZE] "It is only in Darkness that you can see the stars."[/color][/font][/center] That little boy... ...She wondered if that were 'fixed' too. If she'd have been sent into the Arena with a twelve year old boy as her partner because it was almost certain he'd die in the bloodbath. At least, it too was taken out of their hands when his big--huge--cousin stepped up. Raised his hand. Volunteered. Max watched him go. Watched him go onto the stage with Dinah, and she put her hand up. The District Nine Salute. Her brother was right, and he was looking at Ephraim in a very longing way. Because if he'd been brave, like Ephraim was, Jace would be alive today. If he'd raised his hand and volunteered a year earlier, Jace would likely be alive and well and maybe even married. Maybe even happy. Max swallowed, her hand in the air still. That Escort had it wrong. They weren't eager to join in the 'fun'. In the 'glory', and when Ephraim spoke--when he said exactly what Jace had told Rory, he choked back a sob. You can never go home again.That boy knew. He knew what this was and what the cost was, and still he'd taken the risk. Still, he would likely die for his cousin--and Dinah would die for her--and she'd be drinking for both of the tonight. Whether here or on the train on the way to the Capitol, she'd be drinking for them. They both deserved so much more.
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