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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jun 13, 2019 13:50:12 GMT -5
(yes, sparky is from ocklamoho, I am from abalama and pall is from eglande)
(More like aballama.) |
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jun 13, 2019 13:53:11 GMT -5
(Oh my goodness that was heartbreaking to read, but it was really really good.)
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Post by 𝐸𝓁𝑜𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇 on Jun 13, 2019 13:53:32 GMT -5
(yes!
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@
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Post by 𝐸𝓁𝑜𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇 on Jun 13, 2019 13:54:27 GMT -5
(thank you!! Whoever came up with the song inspired posts was brilliant! That was a lot of fun!)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jun 13, 2019 13:57:34 GMT -5
(I think that was me
...
thanks, but stop breaking my heart lol.)
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Post by 𝐸𝓁𝑜𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇 on Jun 13, 2019 14:06:02 GMT -5
(it was seriously brilliant! I didn’t know what her back story was till I found a song and I was like *poof!* inspiration!)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jun 13, 2019 14:08:17 GMT -5
(Ooh I’m gonna read that soon  and I’ll do an Amadrya reply) |
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jun 13, 2019 14:09:10 GMT -5
(Honestly me too Dreamer!
I’m going to do some more, any character in particular that anyone wants to see more of?)
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Post by 𝐸𝓁𝑜𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇 on Jun 13, 2019 14:13:16 GMT -5
(Alessandro!)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jun 13, 2019 14:14:27 GMT -5
(Oh can do ;3.)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jun 13, 2019 14:16:37 GMT -5
(For Ireena: ‘For the Love of a Daughter’ would be very fitting.)
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Post by 𝐸𝓁𝑜𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇 on Jun 13, 2019 14:24:35 GMT -5
(I’ll look it up!)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jun 13, 2019 14:34:27 GMT -5
(I’m loving all the stuff you’re doing I’m gonna read that post now) |
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jun 13, 2019 14:38:17 GMT -5
(Oh my gosh that was the saddest thing ever but it was so good)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jun 13, 2019 14:39:44 GMT -5
(Dang it.
I had a ton of the Alessandro one done and for some dumb reason my iPad glitched and I lost it all.)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jun 13, 2019 14:40:29 GMT -5
(Noooooo that’s the worst thing ever!
I’m gonna do an Amadrya thing soon and while I’m here is there anything else anyone would wanna see in terms of writing?)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jun 13, 2019 15:42:30 GMT -5
Amadrya Darrow
The fire-eyed maid of smoky war
“That doesn’t surprise me. I never really went in for the whole cliquey girls thing - shocking, I know,” she responded “so no wonder they don’t like me.”
She had always got on better with boys growing up, which once again was no great surprise considering she’d grown up with her three cousins and her uncle. She preferred to just be able to fight if she was in an argument with someone rather than playing mind games. Things got settled far quicker. And so she’d never been able to stand the kind of people like the girls in that year’s career pack.
“They hate you, too, huh?” Amadrya asked “and why exactly is that?”
She doubted it was solely because of her, though she supposed in theory it could be. Perhaps it was the fact that he didn’t seem the type for this cliquey manipulation stuff either, or maybe they had other reasons for not trusting him.
She did laugh a little bit at his last comment, though.
“I honestly cannot understand how people can be so dumb yet so strategically intelligent at the same time. Training works wonders. Still, makes your job easier when you have to get rid of them later, I suppose. Just outsmart them.” |
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jun 13, 2019 17:20:09 GMT -5
Tonight we are victorious
Champagne pouring over us
All my friends were glorious
Tonight we are victorious
Alessandro stopped in the middle of his attack during his spar with his mother, glancing up at the screen at the front of the room, where two people fought on a screen. It was moment, but eventually one figure was impaled, and the other stood, hollow eyes darkened at the dead body.
The male from District 1 had won the 87th Hunger Games, and the room erupted into cheers.
Alessandro grinned back to the women before him, Terra, his mother, the winner of the 69th Hunger Games. She was a strong women, with brunette hair similar to her son, and chocolate colored eyes. Her skin was a bit darker than his, but he got the lighter skin of his father, still with a hint of mocha to the skin.
Terra then lowered the staff she had, glancing at her son. “You see that boy?” She gestured to the screen, her own tribute, one she mentored that year, “He won because he didn’t fall for tricks, he fooled the girl. She fell for it, and she died because of it. That’s why the girl from District 2 lost in that battle, she got attached. In your games, you mustn’t get attached.” She warned. “Do you hear me, Arlo?” Her nickname for him, due to the letters in his name.
The 15 year old boy nodded to his teacher and mother. She won her games, and her father won his. He had to uphold the family name and win, or his family would pay the price, like his father did. A father shunned by most of the family for his failure to even participate in the games.
“Then, Arlo, you shall be victorious.”
Double bubble disco queen
Headed to the guillotine
Skin as cool as Steve McQueen
Let me be your killer king
Alessandro looked at the overly dressed female standing on the stage, a shining star and queen of the Capital, he was annoyed, and stoic and serious. His own blouse had gemstones scattered around, it was obvious he was a rich boy, and many knew he was deadly and dangerous.
Her smirked as Sapphire walker to the stage, someone he recognized, one that should be easy to kill, in theory.
His anxiety built, however, as the women neared the bowl. Terra had instructed that as soon as the women even began speaking, he raise his hand if he really wanted a chance in those games,
His name wasn’t called, and he did just that.
“I Volunteer!” Were words that would soon haunt him, much like they would haunt his mother days later.
He didn’t care though, the frowned tribute standing on the stage, looked out at the others with a deadly gleam in his eye.
It hurts until it stops
We will love until it's not
I'm a killing spree in white
Eyes like broken Christmas lights
Alessandro, crowned tribute of District 1, and self-called soon to be Victor of the 90th Hunger Games had a weakness.
One that was killing him internally, as he watched said weakness from afar.
Macaria, of District 2, had dazzled him at first sight, and now he found his thoughts longing for something more with her. He knew she could be playing him, that she probably was, and he knew he might die.
He was starting to prefer that over having to kill her himself.
He was stuck, internally, between a few options. Kill her and make his family proud, or fail his family by allowing his feelings for her to grow.
He was about to walk to her, to talk some, maybe flirt some. The innocent flirting caused it, after all, and he rethought it.
He had to be the killer, no matter how clean he was now. He couldn’t fall into a trap.
His eyes dimmer slightly as he turned away, deciding to find something else to do, and forcing his thoughts from the girl in question.
I'm like a scarf trick
It's all up the sleeve
I taste like magic
Waves that swallow quick and deep
Alessandro was all dolled up, and his thoughts plagued him with fury.
He hated Everest, with a burning passion. He hated Amadrya, who was an unexpected variable in the equation, making all his plans that much harder to complete, and Everest was the reason.
He hated both of them, because now his plans for destroying the career pack and allowing Macaria to stay alongside him for a while longer went down the drain. Because now they had a dangerous tribute in their ranks, one he didn’t know what to expect to do.
Sapphire and Halina were simple enough, care s tended to have similar training, he was sure he could take them out easily if need be, and for the boys it was the same.
Except Everest, Macaria and Amadrya, because they weren’t the ones he was sure he could kill.
He would have to trick them, somehow. Turn them against one another, hold Amadrya as a target to Everest, play on Everest’s past as a Career, pressure him into acting. Amadrya just had to go, and Macaria.
He still decided on trusting her, even if it killed him. She was introduced, and he was lost in a Black Sea.
Throw the bait
Catch the shark
Bleed the water red
Fifty words for murder
And I'm every one of them
He planned their deaths.
It was a menacing act, but it was keeping him to his goals and apathetic to his actions. Everyone died eventually, and only one person could make it out of the games alive. Anyone he killed was going to die anyways.
He looked at Astrape, she was young, he noted, and he planned a quick death for her, he might have been callous, cocky and selfish, but not completely heartless.
He planned slower ones for tributes like Burton, Holly, Everest, Amadrya, and even some of the careers. Some of the most just annoyed him, and if he wanted sponsors, some had to die slow, to give the Capital a show.
It was sick, but he wanted to win, and sponsors were crucial. So he planned each death carefully, Incase he was the one to kill them. Then again, the situation would call for how they died, but he decided on slow, or fast, brutal or clean, the things he could control in quick reactions.
Astrape and Carlo, kids who didn’t stand a chance anyways, would have to go fast, and older tributes would go more painfully and slow. Some had to be brutal and bloody.
He felt a little sick with himself anyways.
“But they have to die,” he reminded himself.
I have to be victorious.
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Post by Sparky on Jun 13, 2019 17:56:50 GMT -5
[ *claps*
omg y'all these are awesome to read ~such emotion~. I'm working on mine more rn! ]]
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Post by 𝐸𝓁𝑜𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇 on Jun 13, 2019 17:58:59 GMT -5
(SO good chaos!! I was singing the song the whole time in my head haha)
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Post by Sparky on Jun 13, 2019 18:38:19 GMT -5
[ okay, if you haven't heard the song yet I highly suggest listening to it before you read this cause I tried and it's impossible for me to listen and read both at the same time xD ]
The song is called 'Wait' by M83(and the music video is pretty cool too imo ]]
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Post by Sparky on Jun 13, 2019 18:50:55 GMT -5
Wait - M83
Ari’s eyes fluttered open with fatigue. He groaned, wiping the sweat from his forehead that had accumulated the night before. Throat dry, the boy from Seven managed to get himself up into a seated position.
What’s this? Ari thought, feeling around his eyes only to recognize the signs of dried up tears. Clenching his fists, Ari lurched out of bed. It was extremely early(that much he could tell), and in only a couple of hours he would be in this year’s specially designed arena. Thousands of cameras would be strategically placed to capture a battle that would last around two weeks. Twenty-four contestants would enter, and only one would leave.
Ari’s bare feet connected with the cold floor, sending a jolt up his spine. He ignored the emotions that plagued his mind, instead opting to wander aimlessly throughout the seventh floor suite.
"send your dreams where nobody hides"
The moment Ari's name had been called back in District Seven, his entire life had changed. He had been thrust away from his friends, peers, and the last person he had to call family.
Jude.
She had fed him, protected him when their parents hadn't. She had raised Ari for as long as he had been able to hold memories - fostering his dreams and pushing the Games away from their minds entirely. When speaking of the Capitol, Jude had never talked of their oppression towards the Districts. She only spoke of how Panem was slowly improving... making the lives of all citizens better one step at a time.
And then the unthinkable happened. Ari had been plucked from her arms and abruptly Jude began displaying a hatred for the Capitol that Ari had never thought possible. She broke, and it killed him to watch her mental state deteriorate. Was she surviving? Was she holding onto the hope that Ari never had?
"give your tears to the tide"
There was no use in crying now… though the faint traces of his breakdown last night still streaked across his face.
Ari had to move on if he wanted to survive. Jude had to move on if she wanted to live.
It was now simply a fact that he had to live with. Even on the nights when he had wandered the Training Center - unable to sleep - Ari had managed to control his persona. Towards the Capitol, Ari was a strong kid from Seven who was hilariously relatable(he had watched his fair share of movies during his time in the Capitol). Maybe he actually had a shot at these Games.
Maybe.
But there was only one way to find out, wasn't there? Come a few hours, his decisions meant life or death. He had thought much about what he was to do. Both mentors had said to avoid the Bloodbath and Cornucopia in general, but that wasn't his plan. They had never seen his full potential during training. They didn't know what he was capable of.
"no time"
Ari had trained extensively during his time at the Capitol. He had picked all of the versatile weapons such as knives and the spear. Both were good for close combat and also doubled as long range projectiles. His proficiency of them, however, was lacking. Only for two days had he actually gone down to train for long periods of time.
"no time"
It seemed hopeless, preparing so diligently when death was ultimately inevitable. As he had trained, false hope had festered inside of his mind, telling him that his chances were good.
And he hated it.
He hated not being able to accept his death. He hated the emotions which followed hope, and he hated being vulnerable in front of people.
"there’s no end - there is no goodbye"
After the first two days of training, Ari had retreated into his room. He had to protect the facade which he had built, and he had to accept his coming end.
Jude.
Once again, his thoughts wavered toward his sister. He hadn’t even said goodbye to her. How could he do this to her? Accept his death, and therefore dig his own grave before the Games had even started?
No. He would be trying.
"disappear with the night"
He would do exactly as many victors before him had. He would do exactly as he had told Amadrya on the train. He’d be going into the Games solo, and he’d be putting as much distance between himself and the others tributes as possible.
He’d disappear. He’d become invisible.
And it was likely that the careers had already forgotten about him.
“no time”
A few hours at the most - that was all the time left. Amadrya likely wouldn't wake up until then.
“no time”
And before either of them would be able to process what was happening, they would be raised into the arena - unprepared mentally and physically for what was to come.
“no time”
Sixty seconds. That was the amount of alloted time the tribute’s would have to register their surroundings. Their opponents.
“no time”
Ari could already feel the clock ticking down, signifying the beginning of the end. He could already feel the pressure in his chest. The warm, sticky blood which coated his shirt.
“no time”
Wait… no.
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jun 13, 2019 19:27:48 GMT -5
(AHHHH I LOVE IT.
Sparky you are inspiring my friend.
I’m totally doing more for my characters hehe.
I have another for Holly, but I may do Robin? I think the song I want to do is going to fit Holly more.)
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Post by Sparky on Jun 13, 2019 19:53:50 GMT -5
[ eek! I got really tired near the end of that post xD
Thanks! and YES I want to do more so badly rn ]]
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jun 13, 2019 20:27:03 GMT -5
(I don’t know which character I want to do.
I’m thinking of doing first perspective? Maybe?)
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Post by Sparky on Jun 13, 2019 20:43:35 GMT -5
[ Ooooh that'd be cool.
You just reminded me of when I was searching through the 1x1's earlier and people were saying "NO first person". okay calm down we get it but like what's wrong with 1st?
The Hunger Games was written in first person ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ]]]
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Post by Hawkeyes258 on Jun 13, 2019 21:03:00 GMT -5
(Everyone has such cool characters Dx. Mine feel average by comparison)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jun 13, 2019 21:26:03 GMT -5
“I know you've got the best intentions.”
Holly frowned at the voice, glancing at her mentor in doubt. They were speaking about her rebellious nature, they were warning her , telling her that if she wanted to win, she had to be careful. They said they understood her reasonings, but the Capital would kill.
She didn’t care, and stepped away when they finished speaking, nodding softly as if she agreed, before walking to the training center ahead.
She lost too much to be silent, and she had too little time to care.
She didn’t know what she was supposed to care about anyways.
Just trying to find the right words to say.
Holly’s time in the Capital brought her to the conclusion that she had no way to truly charm them. She had nothing to say, nothing to represent. She was just a apathetic, comedic girl from District 8, a tribute and soon to be forgotten memory.
She didn’t really care about their opinions anyways, but she cared about Burton’s, and about his chances of survival. Without her, he was mostly inexperienced, though she mostly was too, she still had more physical quirks than him, to a degree. He was stronger than her, but she was stealthier. Regardless, he couldn’t live on charisma alone, and she couldn’t live on snark.
So she worked out a deal with herself, for the upcoming interviews, she would try to please them, in some way. She was instructed to be apathetic, to use that part of her personality, to appear dangerous, use her snark for their good.
It wasn’t as good as Burton, but time was too short to try and win some race.
But they didn’t know her and he life, and neither did he.
Promise I've already learned my lesson
The games started the next day, and yet she was there, wondering why she didn’t listen to her mind. Why she let herself get attached. She learned this before, not to love, not to get attached, because it caused pain.
She thought she knew, anyways, and yet she was there, dreaming about some boy. Though, she had to admit that was probably better than being alone.
At least her last days of life would be filled with happiness, and not the swirling emptiness she felt ever since she heard her name announced at the reaping.
Still, she decided it was best that he didn’t know her feelings.
But right now, I want to be not okay
The time was going forward, but slowly, as she watched the clock before her. Less than a day, and so many children would die. Less than a day, and maybe she would be with them.
She didn’t know if that was good or bad.
She didn’t cry, her tears were gone, had been for a long time, but she didn’t smile or make jokes about the situation.
She almost didn’t feel anything about it at all, just a strange haze as she watched the clock in her room.
Regardless, she didn’t want anyone to know how it felt, feeling empty, like you had nothing to lose, and that if you lost something else anyways, that it was just another things, just another day and that life was empty.
She really didn’t want anyone to know that feeling.
I'm so tired, sitting here waiting...
And finally sleep came, and in the morning, it was dull again, a small anxiety filled her throat, almost making her breath harder.
But it wasn’t anything new, it was just another day.
Maybe the last?
She just sat in her bed for a while, wondering about what was to come. She wondered if Catastrophe was happy, how Burton was feeling, and how his sisters were.
She wondered about what life would be like if she lived, escaping alive when everyone else, every face she got to know, was dead and gone and forgotten.
Forgotten by mostly everyone, everyone but their families, and her.
She didn’t want to know that result.
If I hear one more...
”Just be patient!” The mentor of District 8 snapped, causing Holly to frown deeply, looking down.
Patience wasn’t something she exactly had, but the game wasn’t to begin for another hour, and she was being prepped. Her fretting had apparently annoyed the mentor, who just rolled their eyes and said small nothings that Holly ignored.
She hated being told to be patient, to just wait and hold her words.
She didn’t have any more time to wait, after all.
But they didn’t know that.
It's always gonna stay the same.
That was a thought that kept appearing in her head. Cold and unbidden, but a thought none-the-less.
Because...what if the games never ended? What if her attempts were in vain?
Was it even worth it to try and argue? To try and change things?
She sighed, stepping into the pod that would bring her to the arena, the thoughts wondered in her mind.
She just didn’t know.
Can't stop these feet from sinking
As she rose up, she couldn’t help but feel she was falling. Everything around her diminished into chaos, and fear was the strongest emotion she felt.
She didn’t know why, because she knew she was alive, and she knew if she died, at least Burton had a chance.
And it's starting to show on me
She found herself shaking, and her eyes were wide as the arena came to view. But then that fear faded some, and she was left in awe.
...
Why?
You're staring while I'm blinking.
But just don't tell me what you see.
As Burton came to her view, she noted his wide eyes.
She was blinking at the dust in the air, a sudden calm in her bones, and a hollow feeling in her heart.
I'm so over all this bad luck
Hearing one more "Keep your head up"
Is it ever gonna change?
And the timer went off, and she was running.
That games had begun, but would they ever end?
So let me just give up
She wanted to give in, she didn’t want to fight.
But the games hadn’t even begun.
With the arena in sight, a part of her didn’t know what to do.
She just wanted to give in.
So let me just let go
She didn’t want to try.
If this isn't good for me
She knew it wasn’t.
Well, I don't wanna know
And she didn’t want to know if her voice would ever be heard.
If she was dead, why would it matter?
She just hoped it would be.
Let me just stop trying
She stopped trying to hold back.
Let me just stop fighting
She stopped fighting against herself.
I don't want your good advice
She ignored the words they told her. She followed her own.
But it still felt empty, and her words were whispers to the wind.
Or reasons why I'm alright
Was she even alright anymore? Was she ever?
You Don’t Know.
The thoughts echoed in her head as she stared at the carnage of the arena.
The pain of the games was already present, and it was suffocating her, just like the dust in the air.
You Don’t Know.
Holly thought of her past, of her mom, and of her dad. She then thought of the other tributes, many had families, most did, and a cold feeling flickered through her as she stared at nothing and at everything.
They didn’t know her at all.
You Don’t Know.
She glanced up at the sky, the faces of dead tributes flickered there, and she found the cold feeling again. A tightness.
A wonder of how easy it would be to just step off the building she was on, and end the pain of living when so many others were dying.
Holly’s eyes danced to the sky again. The thought of the lack of knowledge flickered in her mind. Of living when others died. The feeling in her chest, her apathy towards the death, but overwhelming guilt of living.
None of these people understood that feeling, but maybe they did.
Maybe it was just her.
A whisper caught on her tongue, even for no one to hear, in the silence of her hollow heart. With words spoken to the broken shards of a mirror, reflecting a girl with ebony hair, pale skin, and hollow green eyes.
“You don’t know what it’s like.”
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jun 13, 2019 21:28:29 GMT -5
(I was going to format but I was like.
No.
Anyways I feel like that was...way too deep? XD.
Anyways, not exactly depression she has, though that’s part of it, and I definitely was exploring that, but apathy from loss as well.
I also love the song ‘You don’t know What it’s like’ and boom we got this super introspective thing that probably has tons of typos.)
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Post by Sparky on Jun 13, 2019 21:49:26 GMT -5
[ Wow. I have no idea why I haven't heard that song before. Also, I love the way you integrated the dialogue with the lyrics! ]
and Hawky, all you really gotta do is pick a song and they become cool XDXDXD. I wanna do one for Eli now cause he's currently really dull and underdeveloped ]]
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and I’ll do an Amadrya reply)
