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Hunger Games RP!
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Hunger Games RP!
Hunger Games RP!
All right, I'm sorry, I know the Inkwell is rather overcrowded. But none of those RPs are really to my taste, and this has been nagging at me for days.
May I introduce.... the 35th Hunger Games!
So, yes, nothing really special about this. Just a normal Hunger Games, with normal tributes, and a normal arena. If we want to do a rebellion, we can, but please be willing to sacrifice your characters.
Quick few rules:
-OPS ARE A NO. Seriously, it's no fun when one of the tributes is an eighteen-year-old person from District 7 who can kill you with one throw of an axe or just with brute strength. Realistic. Please.
-Don't say you killed someone unless the character is not controlled by someone. Maybe the creators of the charrie had a special death all planned out, and we don't want to ruin it. This is a form of god-modding, which I would prefer to be kept to a minimum. A bit of it is okay, just to keep your RPs from becoming one-liners, but those big descisions, wounds, killings? Leave that to the creator, please.
-Make sure you can see all posts before posting. Just to make sure we don't have two female tributes from District 1 or something.
-Two charries max. Considering, one might be better, but if you have a special pairing planned (like me) that's okay. And I would prefer that they were both from the same district...
A bit of other stuff:
THE ARENA: The Cornucopia is at the tip of a small but very steep mountain. The tributes are place farther down around it. On the left is a deep woodland, on the right a field with a creek running through the middle-- the woods has creeks, too, though.
I was thinking we would start the RP the day of the reaping.
Okay! The boring stuff is over! Charrie sheet:
Name:
Age:
Appearance:
Personality:
District: If it isn't well-known or defined well, such as District 6 or 5, mention it here.
Weapon of Choice:
Skill: Just briefly describe your charrie's fighting abilities.
Gender:
Backround:
Other:
My charries:
Name: Lucelle Marvinforth
Age: 13
Appearance: She has red hair down to her waist and a few freckles on her nose. Her hair is up in a ponytail when doing work, but down the rest of the time. She's about average size with green eyes.
Personality: Sweet, she gets distracted a lot. A very determined and hardworking person.
District: 6, transportation
Weapon of Choice: She'll find she's all right with a sword, but heavy stuff like hammers and wrenches are better.
Skill: Not very good. She has okay upper body strength from a lot of working and (willing) labor, and good with heavy things that could be weapons, but not much else.
Gender: Female
Backround: Her mother (dead) was an Avox, and she inherited the muteness, although she does have a tongue. She grew up in a one-story house with her father, where she developed a love for trains, which was what he did for a living. When she turned ten, she started to help out in the factory where he worked, and was soon welcomed as a full-fledged member. She was homeschooled, because one who couldn't speak wouldn't do so well in a public school. That, and the fact she had been determined "mentally unstable," although she only retreated into her own dim wispy world when she was alone.
Other: One of her only friends is Rick, featured below...
Name: Richard (Rick) Thompson
Age: 15
Appearance: Short black hair and olive black eyes. His eyebrows are unusally thin, with a rather soft face. He's stocky but not very tall.
Personality: As kind as he looks, and quite patient, but with a nasty streak for revenge. It's hard for him to get over a grudge...
District: 6
Weapon of Choice: Something heafty, like a club or axe.
Skill: Moderate. His natural build gives him the upper hand, but he doesn't have experience like Lucelle.
Gender: Male
Backround: His parents were on the poorer side but old friends of Lucelle's father, and he pretty much watched her grow up from birth. While he didn't have the natural talent of engineering like she did, he tried to help out at the factory with her when he could.
Other: N/A
Okay! If I missed anything, let me know!
Let the 35th Hunger Games begin!
submitted by St.Owl, age Recarnated, Everywhere
(December 8, 2015 - 7:35 pm)
(December 8, 2015 - 7:35 pm)
The way I see it, Moonshadow, you might have to be slightly careful of OP-ness, but the charrie isn't inherently OP. Oh, and I stipulated in a previous post that one of the District 7 tributes was named Pine, but my charrie wasn't sure which- that would be the boy then, since yours is named Fae. As far as I'm concerned you have dibs on Pine if you want to run him at all. He's completely uncharacterized at the moment.
~Gena~
"Hmm...this is gonna be tough. If you don't mind me saying so, you have the figure of a power line pole."
I do mind her saying so, of course, but I'd never let her know it. "Her" is my stylist, Pippin, whose mannerisms and outlandish attire remind me of a fairy princess who had a fit of teenage rebellion and decided to go Goth. Everything, from her close-cropped hair to her leather jacket to her combat boots (or at least what would have been combat boots had they not possessed five-inch stiletto heels) to her blasted tutu, is either silver or cotton-candy pink. Ghastly woman.
"Let's see...you're going to need some finagling with the dress, possibly even implants-"
What in the-?! "Excuse me, but I will not go through surgery! I absolutely refuse!"
"They all say that. I'll ask Marisol - she's with Courante, the boy, y'know - see what she thinks about it. Maybe we can get you by without them."
Pippin flounces out of the room, leaving me with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I do not care in the slightest about this Marisol character's opinion; I am not getting any foul surgical procedure simply for the sake of fashion. Let Princess Motorcyclist do what she likes with the dress, but I must draw the line somewhere!
Speak of the devil. With a swish of absurd pink tulle, the punk fairy returns. "Good news! Marisol's had an idea; it'll hide your broomstick-ness somewhat so we don't have to worry about implants. You two," she makes an overdramatized little flourish with her tape measure, "are going to be the King and Queen of the parade!"
Queen of the Parade. I like the sound of that. "What, pray tell, have you been scheming up in particular?"
Pippin winks. Ghastly woman. "Oh, you'll just have to wait and see, won't you? Here- arms up, that's it..." She begins to take measurements, clucking her tongue disapprovingly when my chest, waist, and hips prove to have close to the same circumference. Several minutes of being poked and prodded at later, she releases me to go back to my room.
I do not go back to my room. Instead, a ride up the elevator finds me ringing Ariana's doorbell, hoping her stylist has finished with her already.
(January 24, 2016 - 6:50 pm)
I love it!
(January 24, 2016 - 7:46 pm)
Ariana ~ I lay splayed over almost all of my bed, waiting for tomorrow, for the chariot event. I can't help but feel sorry for Thrawn what I- Diamondshine did to him. And his family. Even though Diamondshine killed his sister, I feel like it was me. I bet everyone back home is talking about how the odds are against us and our families.
The doorbell rings. I force myself to get up and go to the door. It's Gena. "Hi." I squeak. I try again. "I mean, hello." I shuffle my feet.
"Hey."
Yerno instructed me to seem… commanding. "Come on in." I say, opening the door wider. Gena obligingly steps in. "Do you want something to eat?" I ask, gesturing towards a machine. "Sure." Gena says carelessly. I press a couple of buttons. A tray of cookies comes out.
"Sorry." I say. "I'm rather addicted to these cookies." I say, grinning. "It's fine." Gena says with a laugh. We could have been good friends… in better times. "So, why are you here? And don't say I don't know. There's a reason for everything." I say, plopping the tray down on a table and sitting down. "Well …"
~~~~~
I hope I didn't control your charrie too much, Curio.
(January 25, 2016 - 9:49 am)
(January 25, 2016 - 1:37 pm)
@Moonshadow:
1. OP stands for Over Powered. It means that your character is particularly strong, agile, ex. and it's to be avoided as they're no fun. But I think Fae is fine for now.
2. Did you mean District 7? Because both my charries are from District 6, and you said that Fae was from District 7.
Lucelle~
Harriet marches around, explaining to me exactly what her plan is.
"Me and Justin-- that's Richard's stylist-- have decided that you and Rick should both go with the theme 'trains.' That's what you two specialize in, right?"
I nod vigerously. Finally, a competent question!
"So, I made this for you." She holds up a dress. I instantly cringe inwardly-- completely sleeveless. She kept her word. But my opinion lightens a bit as I notice the stitching-- it's a railroad track. They're going to make me a railroad track.
"Well, try it on," she says, clicking her fingers at me. I obey. The top is rather tight, ((disclaimer: I have never worn a literally sleeveless dress, but this is what I would imagine it to be like)) but the rest is kind of okay. Slightly short on me, but not bad.
"Perfect!" Harriet giggles. "You look stunning! Richard is going as a bit of coal-- you know, trains run on coal and all-- you'll make a perfect match!"
Coal? I frown. Coal is Dictrict Twelve's job. We can't have District Six going as coal.
Rick~
"We can't have District Six going as coal!" I protest. "That's all District Twelve will be doing! Are you crazy?"
"it was all Harriet's idea," Justin sighs. "We pretty much designed the other's tribute's costume. I'm not a big fan of it myself, but you're just going to have to go with it."
I'm wearing a suit again. But this time, it's completely black. The buttons blend with the silk seamlessly, the pants draping just enough over the shoes to match. I've got gloves slipped over my hands, and my hair goes quite well with it all. Really, the only non-black part of me is my face.
"Well, for a seriously stupid idea, it looks kind of okay," I admit.
"See?" says Justin, beaming. "Not too bad, right? You might not fail miserably tomorrow!"
I roll my eyes, slip out of the suit, and leave.
(January 25, 2016 - 5:15 pm)
Curio, can you please post?
(January 26, 2016 - 9:38 am)
Yes! I've been super busy, so no time to write, but I can definitely do it now! No worries about your last post. I was actually hoping you'd do something like that.
~Gena~
"Well..."
I take a bite of cookie, pensive. (Ariana was right; they really are very good cookies.) Why did I come here? "I suppose it's because...there is strength in numbers."
"You want to join the Career Tributes." It's not a question.
"If that's what it comes to, then yes. Don't tell me you haven't seen the news, seen all sorts of statistics about Capitol opinion. You're a crowd favorite already. People are thinking you'll want to avenge your sister by winning the Games, or at least killing me or Courante, and if we then come out as friends, it will keep them guessing. We both know the main point of all this is entertainment."
Ariana nods, then asks the obvious question: "How do I know I can trust you?"
"You don't. Nor can I trust you. Alliances are not built on trust, but on mutual benefit, and only last as long as the benefit does."
There's a pause, stretching long as I finish my cookie and Ariana takes another one, looking troubled. Without warning, her gaze snaps up to meet mine and she demands, "Do you play chess?"
"Why, yes, I do. I was rather exemplary in local competitions back at home. Why do you ask?"
"You talk like...well, I don't know, like everything is just logic, just cause and effect. You talk like the Games are just that, a game of strategy like chess or something, and all you're trying to do here is play the game right."
This is so astute, and so unexpected, that I merely blink at Ariana, at a loss for words. She's right, of course. What do you say when someone you just met can see the way you are, the philosophy you live by, that clearly?
************
Koda says xtro. Extra what?
(January 27, 2016 - 4:30 pm)
I haven't read The Hunger Games yet, but I've been reading along on this RP and I like it. Could I take over Kittygirl's charrie? I can totally work with it...
Waiting for St. Owl's reply, Coconut The Dog.
Swift says "ohke." Okay or Oh, Key? Can I see your key? *It's not mine, you silly, I found it!* Oh. Sorry. Well, can I see the key you found? *Yeah, I guess...*
(January 28, 2016 - 10:22 am)
Perfect! Thanks Curio! @St Owl, I told a friend about this RP, and she might join, but I haven't heard back from her. I'll give you an update on Wednesday.
Ariana ~ "Do you play chess?" I ask. She seems to enjoy strategies. Like Diamondshine. She reminds me so much of her, that it makes me sad. "Why yes, I do. I was rather exemplary in local games back home. Why do you ask?" She replies. "You talk like …" I was about to say Diamondshine, but that would make me seem like a weakling.
"Well, I don't know, like everything is just logic, just cause and effect. You talk like the Games are just like that, a game of strategy or something, and all you're trying to do is play it right."
Gena blinks at me as if astonished by my logic. "So, I accept what I believe to be an invitation to become your ally. Do you want me to tell my trainer I want you, or do you want to tell your trainer?"
Gena opens her mouth to speak, but I interrupt her. "No, just let me. Your trainer might not understand. But I do. I do."
(January 28, 2016 - 10:22 am)
Oh dear I didn't post because I thought this thread had become a "zombie" already. Man I should be more patient. Anyway, here is my charrie sheet:
---
Name: Nova (this is an alias. Last name, real name, unknown!)
Age: 14
Appearance: Curly, dark-brown hair. Brown eyes hidden behind purple glasses
Personality: Tough, knows her way around places. Somewhat resourcful. But she can get angry at insults easily and isn't aware of her surroundings. A bit clumsy.
District: 13!
Weapon of Choice: A bow, maybe?
Skill: Moderate. She's a good aimer, due to hunting on her own. She can also fiddle with electronics and even use a pick axe.
Gender: Female
Background: She's a drifter. Born in the hidden, 13th district to exetremely poor parents, she was abandoned and adopted by an abusing family. When she turned 13, she ran away and ventured around Panam, dodging peacekeepers and going through each district. She has learned what they learned, seen what they've seen.
Other: N/A
---
Ill post my first story right after this so I wont miss anything!
P.S. You guys are great writers! I just finished writing my own novel, but you people are good!
(January 28, 2016 - 2:17 am)
Uh... sorry can I change something? I'd like Nova's hair to be wavy brown instead of curly. Also, I'd like Nova to be tall, and her eyes and unusual shade of purple from a chemical. Sorry I'm indecisive. Also, I do not understand why someone named "Top" keeps posting "Top Top top top top top top top top." Is that some kind of joke? Sorry I'm new to CB!
And I shal post my thing I guess!
(January 28, 2016 - 2:45 am)
OKAY ITS ME AGAIN!! LET's DO THIS!! *puts on writer's face*
---
I sigh as I stand in the middle District 4. I can't believe I made it. After dodging peacekeepers for a year and crossing barb-wired borders, I'm at the land of fishing. After I spend a few days here, I'll move up again. I hope to make 1, a permament place to call home. Luxury, plenty of food, clothing, big mansions. I know life will be sweet there.
I'm at the edge of a large lake, staring out at the crystal clear water. Flying fish, with fins that mimic sails, leap out of the water, as if they were birds taking off for flight. I wish I could be that free, and even though it seems as if I was, I'm definitely not.
I live in Panam, ruled by a viscious government. And although I'm a drifter, with no real identity, I can never escape the Hunger Games. They follow everyone everywhere, like a haunting shadow. I've never been trapped in a District during a Reaping, but it looks like this time it'll hit it.
I groan and shiver at the hideous thought.
***
"It is time, ladies and gentlemen, to reveal the District 4 tributes for the 35th Hunger Games!"
I narrow my eyes at the announcer. She's tall and skinny, like me. Her hair is pure white, though she's far from old. Purple eye shadow lines her beady eyes, and sparkly nail polish makes her fingertips shine. Around me, miserable-looking people stand there, waiting for a name. A name that could be there's. A name that could be a loved-one's. No matter the name, I know it will cause heart-break and fear.
The announcer, named Victoria, puts her hand into the glass bowl. She digs around with a stupidly mischievous grin on her face.
And then she pulls it out, clutching a slip of paper.
"Well, well, well," she says, "the girl tribute for this year's will be . . ." She dramatically opens the folded parchment. ". . . Nova!"
I gasp and consider fainting. It can't be! I can't do it! I'm a drifter! I don't even belong here! So I sure don't belong in the Hunger Games! For a second I assume it's a mistake. I mean, I never gave my last name.
Trembling like a newborn fawn, I make my way up to the stage.
"Any words, honey?" cooes Victoria.
"Um," I reply, putting my mouth up to the microphone, "but it can't be--"
I suddenly stop and stare at the crowd. Thousands of eyes are watching me, watching me with relief. The other girls are glad is wasn't them, and only a few feel pity. But if I refuse, then some other unfortuante person will be picked to replace me. Maybe a daughter, a sister . . .
I gulp. "What I meant was . . . I am honored to particpate in the . . . Hunger Games." The words I speak are all lies.
Then the crowd cheers. Again, all lies.
***
I am loaded into a hovering train, and I see the world whiz by under my feet. The boy tribute is some guy named Trevor. He's 16 and a fisherman's son, with smooth blonde hair and piercing green eyes. From what I heard, he's mean and gets angry easily.
I have a feelling I won't win.
Our mentor is a woman named Andrea. She won the very first Hunger Games, after the so-called "Dark Days." Although she pretends to be preppy and happy, I can see constant sadest in her eyes, and I sometimes wonder if she looks back at the memories.
Refusing to pick out a new outfit, I stay in my demin overalls and turquoise turtleneck. I push up my purple glasses as I stare at the TV in our train.
I'm watching the other Reapings.
"Wow," says Trevor as he plops down next to me on our plush sofa, "what a dork. She fainted. And I hear she can't talk."
"So?" I argue defensively. I can't stand bullies. "That doesn't mean she's weak or stupid. And even if she was, that doesn't mean she should be treated deffierently."
"Yeah it does." He peeked at me. "And man, I can't believe I got stuck with a nerd."
I scrunched up my nose. "I'm not from District 3."
"I know. But still . . ." He giggled and stood up.
I suddenly have an impulse to be in the arena against him.
***
At the dinner, I'm sitting at a long banquet table, filled with all sorts of amazing food. There's fish or course, but it's even better than the stuff at District 4. As the other tributes walk in, I eye them carefully. Even though I saw all of them on TV, I always get their District numbers mixed up. I pick a chair at the far end--I don't want anyone asking about my background.
I see a young boy hobbling to the table on crutches and the girl who fainted. I feel sorry for all of them, including myself. I don't want to end any of their lives, but I don't want to have my life ended, either.
I sigh. As I hear the other people converse and try to make allies amongest enemies, Trevor breezes past me as if I were invisible and sit down next to a girl named "Ariana," the tribute from District 1.
"Hello," he says with a certain charm in his voice.
The girl ignores him.
Trevor rolls his eyes. "Snob," he whispers. Like he's any better!
Suddenly, after eating so much that my stomach is about to burst, Ariana drops her fork, making a tantalizing clank. She leaps from her chair, knocking it over. There are watery tears in her eyes as she runs out of the room. The others watch with surprise and amazement, and Trevor does nothing except smirk.
I gasp silenty. Nobody's going after her. I sigh and stand up slowly. I exit the dining hall and look to my left and right. I heard her scream something about her sister and honor. Finally I look down and see Ariana sitting on the floor, her head in her hands and her knees against her chest. Se doesn't notice me, and I'm glad of that.
Still wanting to make her feel better, I bend down and whisper, "It'll be all right."
***
Btw, anyone can control Trevor. I'm really interested on how this role play will turn out!
(January 28, 2016 - 3:45 am)
Uhhhhh sorry Im posting again!!! when I said that thing about Trevor and how he greet Ariana, well that sounded so wrong. XD I meant in a voice he thought would be charming not in a voice Nova thought was charming! XD
Edit:
"Hello," said Trevor, in a supposedly "charming" voice.
(January 28, 2016 - 3:58 am)
Whooa! Assulted by Novelist posts! XD
I love Nova, Novelist! I was going to point out that this is the 35th, but she fits the time period quite well! Fantastic!
@Coconut the Dog: Of course you can!
@Cho: Okay! There'll be a spot reserved for her. :)
(January 28, 2016 - 5:17 pm)
Thanks!
(January 28, 2016 - 6:51 pm)