A/N: Hello and welcome to the 109th Annual Hunger Games! What fun we shall have! This is my first SYOT, so bear with me!
Okay, so this first chapter shall have the tribute form, but so this doesn't break all the rules as one big author's note or whatever, I've written a prologue of sorts, of how the previous year's victor won. Enjoy, and don't forget to submit a tribute!
Micheal Shutter, Age 15, District 6
Drip, drip, drip. April's blood drops off Goliath's sword like water off a leaking tap. She was so young, only twelve. Third place isn't bad for a twelve-year-old. Of course, nobody is praised for third place. Or second. All that matters is the Victor. And as I stare into Goliath's cold-blooded eyes, somewhere in my heart I know that it shall not be me. Not that I'm giving up, I have to put up a fight, for Tyler I said I would. I wonder if he even knows what's going on. He may be older than me, but he has the mind of a three-year-old.
Goliath strides towards me across the icy terrain with little effort at all. He must have sponsors who can afford to get him non-slip boots, whereas I don't. Well, of course he's got sponsors! He's from District Two!
My legs only realise what they need to be doing when he's less than ten metres away. I turn around and try to run – I'm smaller and more agile than him, but my feet slide about on the slippery ice so I can't go very fast. I'm just about outrunning him, but with his mammoth steps the chase can only go on for so long. Still, running is my only chance, as I'm weaponless, so I continue on. When I can feel him right behind me, hot breath piercing my goose-pimpled neck, my brain semi-consciously conjures up a plan. It's risky, but my only chance. I stop running and drop to my belly. As I'd hoped, I slide right through Goliath's legs and end up behind him. Finally, a good use for my small size. There's no time to lose though, so I quickly jump up and start running in the opposite direction. If I can just find where that layer of thinner ice is, I can go straight across it and it will only break for his heavy weight. But where is it?
I spot the patch of thinner ice only a hundred metres away. I've learnt that the thickest ice is blue, and the thinnest is grey, with most of it being in between in the white zone. If I can just keep this up for a little while longer, I can get home. Eighty metres, fifty, twenty. I'm almost there, I can do it. Ten, five, three... Yes, I can do it, I'm going to get out of here! But then I am caught by the collar and pinned to the ground by Goliath. I thrash about under his weight, but it's no good; he's got me.
Goliath shakes his head and tuts in mock-pity. "Oh dear, midgie Mikey, it's all over, isn't it?" he says to me, "You'll never be able to win now." I continue to thrash about but it doesn't work, he just pushes against me harder. Eventually I give in.
"Okay, you've won," I say, "You know that. Can you please just get it over with?" Goliath laughs.
"Oh no, Mikey-boy," he teases, "I promised Romeo a show before I win, and a show we shall get." I remember. It was practically all he went on about in his interview with Romeo Dallerson. I didn't say much in my own one, but it seems a lifetime ago now.
Goliath wipes his sword on my shirt, smothering it with the blood of the girl I saw him murder just minutes ago. He doesn't care about who he kills. Each one means just another dead for him. But he's wrong. People mean more than that.
I can feel my heart thumping hard in my chest. It would have been better for me to just die in the bloodbath with my district partner, Sophie. It would be over quicker. Goliath starts with my cheek. He begins to drag the sharp blade from the right side of my face and then over my nose to the left. I resist the impulse to cry out of pain by focusing on his eyes. Deadened grey eyes that can't tell right from wrong; perhaps they never could. But my gaze is interrupted when I see his hand drop much closer to my face as the sword tip almost reaches my ear. I use all my strength to force my head upwards enough to bite his hand. Reflexively, Goliath drops the sword and starts screaming hell at me for this insignificant injury. While I still have the chance, I grab the sword and half-throw, half-slide it across onto the grey ice nearby.
Goliath's face growls at me, before his voice does the same, "You little insect!" He bashes my head against the cool ground and my head feels foggy once he does. "I'll be right back, you know. You aren't getting anywhere soon." My giant opponent stands and marches off towards his discarded weapon. Please, I beg, please let this work. I turn my head to the side just in time to watch the ice under Goliath break and see him fall into the water. He flails around crying bloody murder before his attempts to flee the water eventually fail, and his cannon booms.
In the small pool of blood around my head, I let out a weak smile before the world blacks out. I am Victor of the 108th Hunger Games. Now I only need to worry about Tyler not getting picked for the 109th Games, when I have to mentor. That's the part I'm going to hate.
A/N: I hope you liked that, I might use his POV again for something. Now, tribute form time. Please only send tributes via PM, or I'm likely to ignore them. And send me a Mary-Sue and they'll either be ignored or killed in the bloodbath. You have been warned...
Tribute Form for the 109th Hunger Games
The Basics
Name (try to make it distict-related):
Age (12-18, no younger than 16 if they're a Career):
Gender:
Preferred District – list three in case:
Appearance – hair, eyes, height, stature, etc:
Personality (detailed so I can be accurate when writing them!):
History (detailed, but brief, I'm not writing their biography):
Relationships
Family (list and give brief description of each person):
Friends (brief description of each):
At the reaping
Do they take tesserae? How much? Who for?:
Reaped or volunteered?:
If reaped, what was their reaction?:
If volunteered, why? – make it original and realistic if they're a non-Career:
Reaping outfit:
Token – who was it from? What does it mean to them? Description, etc:
Escort – name and brief description:
Before the Games
Mentor – name and brief description:
Stylist – name and brief description:
Chariot outfit (remember non-Careers' can be awful!):
Training strategy:
What they showed the Gamemakers:
Suggested training score – make it realistic:
Interview outfit:
Interview angle:
Interview quote? (optional):
Skills
Strengths – maximum of 5:
Weaknesses – minimum of 3:
Preferred weapon:
Worst weapon:
During the Games
Bloodbath tribute? (I will need some!):
Cornucopia strategy:
Arena strategy:
Open to alliances? If so, with whom?:
Romance? (I'm not planning on pairing up loads of people, just so you know):
Preferred death? (yes, you might want them to win, but there's a 23 to 1 chance they won't!):
Other stuff
Any suggestions for something that should happen with them?:
Something I missed?:
A/N: Thank you very much, remember, send by PM and no Mary-Sues! I shall hopefully have a tribute list up soon and I might make/find pictures of them and put them on a blog as I've seen some people do on SYOTs, depends how bored I get. Remember, you can send as many as you like, but I will need some bloodbaths, so they would be much appreciated.
Please review on what you thought of my little prologue bit up there too, and PM me if you want to know anything. I'm thinking about doing all the reapings in one chapter so we can get this thing rolling! Might depend on what tributes I get, though.
-IWriteStuffWithWordsInIt x