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 20:02:19 GMT -5
It was smoky in District 12 high in the mountains. It was cold. Cold enough that the snow was caked on the ground. It was dark grays and barren trees. Nothing grew lush and green in the week before the Reaping. People gathered around the Hub early in the morning, asking for food, anything. Because the people were starving here. And the Capitol did nothing to help. So long as coal shipments were coming, the Capitol cared very little.
After all, mines can still function with dying miners.
Unlike most districts, D12 only had two victors. Just two. And they hadn't seen one in a while. Not since Ember Clay shocked all of Panem. She came home. But she didn't stay.
Who could blame her? There were many people here that would leave if they had a chance. And many people that saw their only ticket out in a plain pine box. That was life in District 12.
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Post by Seryna on May 10, 2018 4:10:55 GMT -5
Rob walked out of the lonely Victors Village, trying to keep his eyes from those windows. Some nights he had nightmares of things watching him from those cold, empty houses while he slept. Beautiful mansions shouldn't be menacing, yet the Games had poisoned every thing. Even the sweet respite of sleep. The tall, muscular tribute walked briskly into town. As he shook off some sludge from his boots, he looked around the square for someone to talk to. It was lonely off in his own little porcelain prison.
He had brought his family to his house, of course. His older sister and younger brother, his mother. Yet they thought that he would have come back the same Rob that left, but jubilant to be alive. Sometimes talking to his family made him tired. His Games had been a blend of family and unity and then heartbreaking loss and hopelessness. Watching Castor stab his sweet district mate would haunt him until the day he died. We said we would protect her. We failed. Rob thought, for the hundredth time. He had been 18 when he had won the #33 Hunger Games. He shouldn't have won. He knew it. District Four knew it. If someone had known that Pearla had been stricken, he would never have dueled her. He likely would have been killed in the next honor duel. Grace would have to battle the whole rotation, or fight Ruby's raptors or tried to have kept Gareth afloat all by herself.
Of course, there was no footage of the Deathstalker hurting Pearla. Rob couldn't figure it out. All these years later, Rob still couldn't figure out why he was alive. And now Grace had stopped taking his phone calls. What had he done wrong? Rob searched out someone alive to talk to, someone who hopefully wouldn't put expectations on him.
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Post by Seryna on May 11, 2018 19:44:23 GMT -5
As Rob walked, people kept moving around him. A young man paused besides him and greeted him. He was about nineteen, just freed from the sentence of the Hunger Games. Rob couldn't quite remember his name. The young man held out something to Rob and Rob accepted it.
"The mayor asked me to bring it." Oh yes. The mayor was attempting to employ a few young folk, to teach them politics or useful skills. It wasn't uncommon to watch them sweep the coal dust from various porches, only to do it over and over again the next day. "Thank you... I'm sorry, I don't remember your name." Rob was embarrassed. "Benton, sir."
"Sir." Rob laughed and tried to cover it into a cough. "No. You haven't been around me, much." "No.. ah. Rob." "What have you been doing with your life?" The young man blinked. "Uh... stuff."
"Trying not to die?" Rob emphasized. "Trying not to be Reaped?" Benton nodded, looking confused. "We obsess about it."
Rob stated darkly. He stared across the field, where the platform would be going up. "What will you do with your life now? Have you a special someone in your life?" "No. I.. I didn't want any one to be hurt when I... if something happened. I had been liking a boy, but he didn't know. He married last year. After the Reaping." "I'm sorry." Rob placed a hand on the boys arm. "I can't imagine." "What about you, sir - Rob. Are you going to marry her? Its sure been a long time. You never answer the interviewer."
"No one's business." Rob looked back down at the telegram. "Except for me and her. And she hasn't given me an answer." Benton grinned. "She's making you wait." Rob had to laugh, grudgingly agreeing. "She is. "
"The best things are worth waiting for?" Rob blinked. "What a stupid saying." He hastened to assure. "I'm sorry, I'm not saying that I think that you are stupid. I didn't say that well. I mean, waiting can cause a lot of harm."
"So what did you mean?" The Victor sighed. "I don't even know. I love her, Benton. I think that she loves me. But..." He looked around the Square. A victor's child was not protected from the Games. If anything, it could be an attractive lure. "But I'm here and she's there. It's hard to communicate."
"But you could go, right? I mean, Ember didn't stick around." "No. Why would she." Rob laughed. "I'm the only idiot here." "There's the first victor." Benton reminded.
" I can't forget him. He's here. But... the Games have been his life, Benton. Its all that he does. All that he thinks of. Remembering his kids who died."
Benton looks pretty miserable.
"I'm sorry." Rob said. "I'm no good at this." He shakes his head. "I'm the luckiest guy. I survived hell. I came home with a girl I love. And I whine at the guy who watched his love live with another man." He clapped Benton on the shoulder.
"We are a strong district, Benton." Now Benton really looked confused. He looked like he might go into town and search for a healer.
"No, really." Rob insisted, making Benton look at him and stop scanning for help. "We have dren luck. We watch our kids die. Our brothers and sisters. People may just surrender. Decide to live barren, sad lives and die virgins. Childless virgins. But we find someone. We live. We raise our children. That's the reason for all of it, right? Our children."
Those were the shackles. The Capital knew it. Were it not for the children, Rob would walk over there to Peacekeeper #34 and kick him in his stones. Self righteous ass had tried to hassle an old woman heading to the Hob the other day, like the Hob was actually doing anything to the Capital. Rob had enjoyed interfering. There wasn't much he could do. But he could do little things. He was starting to think he should do more.
"You know any kids?"
"My sisters' boys." Benton nodded.
"Good boys?"
"The best." Benton nodded.
"Bring them by," Rob suggested. "- for dinner tonight. I hired Meara - you know her?" "Jenna's daughter?" "Yeah. Jewel's wife. Awesome cook. I think she said something about glazed... something. Bring your whole family. We should live, Benton." "Yes sir."
The two stood talking in the street. Rob glanced at the people walking by. Wondering if they were living.
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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 12, 2018 13:45:33 GMT -5
Flint Coulson; Victor of the 9th Annual Hunger Games: The Wise Hunter "The world is full of evil and lies and pain and death, and you can't hide from it. You can only face it. The question is, when you do, how do you respond? Who do you become?"
Being a Victor had once been a lonely job. A lonely, depressingly morbid job. Punished for crimes they weren't alive for, Flint was made to watch, year after year, two kid from his district be lead into the Arena, like lambs to the slaughter. He didn't have children. He never saw the need, especially looking at the faces of the parents who had just lost a child to the Games, Flint couldn't bring himself to do it. He had loves. And he had lost more than his fair share. But he would never bring a child into this world. And Flint had to count that as a blessing. Because if anything, the solitude of his victory had taught Flint that you can't lose something you don't have.
He had been a man alone on an island until a tribute from his old neighborhood crossed his path who was just crazy enough to win. After watching Cinder Clay die six years before, Flint tried not to keep his hopes up. High training score, and early fan favorite didn't meant two things when the timer reached zero and the games began: jack and s**t. But she came home with more kills than the "First Victor" and Flint had to be a little proud of that. Even if she had cut people down like a career. District 12 wasn't like some of the other districts. People here understood what it took to survive. They had been doing it all of their lives.
But still, Ember had won and after that she was only here for Reapings. Choosing to spend all of her time in District Nine, with that boy of hers. Flint didn't like him at first. Didn't trust him. He was too pretty. But Ember loved that boy something fierce. And after a few years, and lot more kids, he saw that Jan Colton loved Ember just like she loved him. And Flint got over it. He still acted as the overprotective father figure and de-facto material grandfather to the Janber brood. Ember and Rob would be the closest things he'd ever have to children of his own. And he watched over them as any father would.
They were his.
Ember wouldn't be here for a few days. It was J.J. and Lucky's first Reaping. Flint knew that she'd want to spend as much time as possible with them before she had to be here. Maybe he'd call her tonight to see when Ember was coming in. He had to know if he should cook or not.
"Don't call him, sir," Flint said as he approached Rob and Benton. "It'll only go to his head. And I have a heard enough time keeping Ember humble. Don't need to start worrying about this one too."
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