CuteLikeMurder
Staff Member
Gamemaker (HG Mod)
As if killing the bard impresses us.
Posts: 2,268
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Post by CuteLikeMurder on May 9, 2018 19:25:21 GMT -5
Life was slow and easy in District Ten. Especially before a Reaping. Folks didn't work. Kids didn't have much in the way of schooling this week. People were meant to enjoy each other. Because in a week's time, two people would be taken, and there was a chance they wouldn't come back.
Folks in D10 were luckier than most. And they had had a bit more luck than the other outer districts. Sporting more Victors than even those fancy Career Districts. And it wasn't because they were better. It was because they had more heart and they fought like tomorrow wasn't promised. Win or lose, killing a District Ten was no small feat.
And still life went on. The parents had a little whiskey with their coffee in the mornings before a Reaping. The older kids might do the same, and the adults pretended not to notice. Because if they were old enough to die for the Glory of the Capitol, they were old enough to have a little nip for breakfast.
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Kay
Member
Superheroes or Supernatural...
Posts: 70
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Post by Kay on May 15, 2018 16:56:03 GMT -5
Shy walked around the district, going to several local vendors to buy some food for the night’s dinner. Her mind wasn’t really there. She always went into a dreamy, half awake state just before the Reaping. The closer it got, the more her mind wandered away from her.
She always dreaded the Reaping. For some reason, she was more anxious than usual about this one. Perhaps it was because her youngest sister was now at the age where she could get Reaped. Shy really did not want to think about that. Shy knew she wouldn’t survive the Games, if she couldn’t, her little sister definitely couldn’t.
She picked out several apples for that night. Bringing each one to her eyes, but not really looking thoroughly at them. Shy dropped them into the basket she was carrying. Her mother, well, Stepmother, she supposed. But that name didn’t do Delilah justice. Her second mother was baking sweets. Something she only did when the Reaping came close. Tonight was apple pie night, and it was her duty to get the best apples. Shy barely noticed some of the bruises on the ones she had picked out, let alone the soft spots.
As she picked the last one up, the apple slipped from her grip, falling to the ground. It rolled away a good bit before stopping at someone's feet.
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QuinnTalon
Staff Member
Gamemaker (HG MOD)
For those who fight for it, life has a flavor the sheltered will never know.
Posts: 1,351
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Post by QuinnTalon on May 15, 2018 18:45:59 GMT -5
Macon Reynolds North; Age 28: The Adopted Son of a Forgotten War "They call me 'Moon-Brained', but Miss Maggie says it's because they don't understand when someone is so smart they're crazy. Or...what it actually means to see horrible things and survive it." Macon was four, when his parents disappeared. Four years old, when he'd wandered onto the North farm in his barefeet and bloodied clothes. When Clay Sr. and Miss Maggie had rushed from the front porch to get him inside. When two minutes later, a cadre of blood-spattered White-Riders (the name for Peacekeepers in District Ten) ran by in formation, Clay North Sr. standing on the porch with little Clay at his side while Maggie had cleaned him up and put him in a set of Little Clay's clothes, Sandra watching as she did so. Since, that had been the cover. Macon was Clay's younger twin brother as far as anyone outside of the immediate family was concerned. Twins ran in Miss Maggie's family, she'd told everyone, and it had been supported by the births of Hadley and Billie a few years later. The Reynolds' Ranch was a ruin now, and so far as the Peacekeepers were concerned everyone who lived there was dead nearly thirty years. There were little headstones in the family plot, grown over with weeds and grass. Macon knew there was one there for himself, even if there was no body buried there. All to protect him from a Capitol Orphanage, and the fate that awaited someone 'extraordinary' there. Macon North, to the rest of the District, was the staggeringly brilliant brother of four Tributes, two of whom made it home as Victors. Peyton, who was a Co-Victor of the 32nd Hunger Games, and Billie North, the Victor of the 35th Games. As of now, Peyton was with him in the market, an arm slung over Macon's shoulders as they walked though the market. Macon was older than Peyton by a few years, but he was smaller and slighter. He affectionately called himself the 'Brawn' to Macon's 'Brains', and if it were anyone else Macon would have made faces. But it wasn't anyone else. It was Peyton, and humor was how he coped with the things he'd been through in the Arena. "You want a smart-person thing, Mac?" Peyton was saying, even as an apple rolled toward Macon's booted feet. He was looking down at his toes and had to break away from his brother's half-hug to pick it up, searching for who it belonged to. "I ain't bought you presents in a tick. Always buyin' things for everyone else but..." Macon absently shook his head, "I live in your house, Pey.""'Cause I don't like livin' alone." Nightmares, and that big house got too quiet. Macon got it. Probably better than anyone else except maybe Billie. Macon just shrugged, looking at the apple in his hand. "Someone dropped this."
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Kay
Member
Superheroes or Supernatural...
Posts: 70
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Post by Kay on May 19, 2018 18:52:29 GMT -5
Shy Destrier ~~~ ~~~ Age : 17 Driven Horse-Girl ~~~~"The tragedy of life is not that it ends so soon, but that we wait so long to begin it."
Shy turned to see where the apple had rolled. It appeared to have been found by one of the Norths. One of the former victors and the smart one of the family. Shy supposed it was rude to think that way. But it’s how some her siblings referred to the slender Macon. Of course, her sister had a huge crush on Peyton, many girls in the district seemed to.
Shy was immune to it, probably because there was a boy she was still hung up on. Unfortunately, she had no idea what the boy’s name even was. Not that it really mattered. Shy expected her life to end up like many women’s lives in the District. Get married and then start having children. Shy liked children, but she didn’t know if she wanted that life but she knew she didn’t really have a choice.
Part of her hoped the brothers would just leave the apple there, so she wouldn't have to address them with pleasantries. Against her wishes, one of them picked it up. Now she would need to awkwardly meet with them. What was she supposed to say? 'Good job in the Arena..." no, she wasn't going to say anything at all to the Victor. Mostly because she didn't want anything offensive to come out of her mouth.
“Oh! Sorry, that’s mine,” Shy called. Shy handed the payment over to the vendor and then rushed over to retrieve her last apple from the two brothers. Shy wasn’t completely sure how to address Peyton. She knew about his victory and how anyone coped with what happened in the arena was beyond her. So, she gave him a quick, weak smile and looked directly at Macon outstretching her hand for the apple.
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