Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games
Right well I have always wanted to do one of these though I'm aware SYOT stories have probably been done to death already but I hope there are some out there interested…! :)
Lonely Pedestal
President Kravosk leaned on the marble balustrade and looked out over his newly secured Capitol.
A labyrinth of Capitol design, on the surface aesthetically stunning buildings; estates, houses, towering pinnacles of apartments with vast views, parks, theatres, restaurants…etc and below the surface deadly pods.
The malevolent grin on his face turned down at the corners slightly in a sour grimace as he let his gaze wander further and saw the ruined remains of the parts of the Capitol the Rebels had managed to breach that had yet to be rebuilt.
His arm tingled or rather where his arm should have been. He had been caught in an ambush and the blast of the explosions had ripped his arm right of, completely irreplaceable.
His commanders and advisors and a hundred others had all warned him not to go to the Capitol outskirts that day – that it was a trap. That the Rebels were only doing it to provoke him, but President Kravosk had always been a man of volatile emotions that once enraged within him he lost all semblance of sense.
Once a challenge was set, President Kravosk would meet it.
There was a pointed clearing of someone's throat behind him and President Kravosk whipped around to see who it was.
Senna, his newly appointed Head Gamemaker stood emotionlessly with an armful of blueprints balanced expertly in her hold.
A wicked grin crossed President Kravosk's face as he eyed the rolls of paper eagerly.
Jumping excitedly like a child at the prospect of new presents he raced back into the room, leaving his bitter moaning over his losses in exchange for the promise of something better…revenge.
The Districts would suffer for their insolence; a price so high they would never again dare to rise up against the Capitol.
District 13 had been annihilated or so it appeared to be…one thing that counted for more than anything in the Capitol was appearances.
The rebellion had been crushed months ago and the District dwellers had since then been trying to simply survive; to quell the upsurge of disease, to try and find food, to save the injured, to rebuild their shattered homes.
And during those months in the Capitol they had not been idle; no…they had been conjuring up an idea so fantastic it was sure to go down in the History of Panem.
President Kravosk tried to rip open the blueprint, growling in anger when he couldn't manage it with only his one arm.
Senna silently took it from him and opened it, spreading it out across the table.
If anyone else would have done that Kravosk would have had them severely punished for presuming him to be so inept that he couldn't unroll a simple piece of paper; which would be correct – but that was beside the point!
However given it was Senna that did it Kravosk merely smirked.
Senna was a wonderful creature Kravosk thought; she was alike him in all the best ways but without the emotion and passion to hinder her.
Any other idiots that had of seen him struggling with unrolling the blueprint would have meekly offered assistance, maybe a poorly concealed look of disgust or else they would have gone off on a tirade of how it made him look more heroic; all of them imbeciles Kravosk sneered.
But not Senna. The only thoughts that would have gone through Senna's head would have been; The paper needs to be opened. Kravosk can't open it.
Kravosk rocked on his heels impatiently as Senna rolled out all the blueprints on the huge table that dominated most of the room.
Truthfully Kravosk didn't pay much attention to the painstakingly minute detail that had been slaved over them; he was always one for wanting the bigger picture and in this case it was the arena he wanted to see.
The result of Senna's fantastic brain that Kravosk admired so much.
Senna was a woman of few words and fewer emotions; ever calm and emotionless.
She had no family to speak of and no interest it seemed in any other living creatures; her only passion was for her creations – those horrifying blood-curdling creations she designed.
Her face was always a mask of composure not betraying a thing. Before the Games had even become a thought during the Rebellion Senna was known as 'The Talker'.
Whenever they would capture Rebels they would drag them down to the very bowels of the Capitol where they would be thrown into a cell and then Senna would be sent for.
Kravosk remembered one particular Rebel; he had the dark hair, olive skin and grey eyes of what the Districts referred to as 'The Seam'.
"Ha – they call you 'The Talker' eh? Well you don't say much do ya sweetie?"
Senna had merely replied tonelessly and without a single blink, "it is you who will be talking."
Kravosk chuckled darkly now even thinking about; boy did that Seam Rebel talk alright, talked his jaw right off begging Senna to stop.
But what made Senna really fantastic at her job and the perfect candidate for this new one was Senna didn't care.
Not in the nonchalant petulant sense of the term but rather in the way that Senna lacked any basic human empathy for another human being; the words mercy, pity or any feeling at all were foreign to Senna.
Kravosk nodded approvingly, a dark gleam in his eyes, a brown so dark in colour they were almost black, as he looked over the blueprints. He recognised some of the designs that Senna had used in the cells to get the prisoners talking and some new ones that promised to be even more entertaining.
However as Kravosk's gaze roamed over the blueprints his frown slowly returned.
"Is this all Senna? There isn't more?" he remarked annoyed.
Senna looked to him expressionless, not at all intimidated by him.
"It was Clark," Senna answered.
Kravosk ground his teeth together in anger.
Clark; that damn imbecilic fool. The man was head of representation; the more visual side of their upcoming Games.
And he was forever squawking on about how they could make the Games meaningful, build them into something that could live on as the Capitol's legacy.
Kravosk had snorted in wry amusement but had reluctantly agreed to allow Clark to include 'interviews', 'chariot rides' and 'training'.
Kravosk had laughed outright at the idea of 'training' but then Clark, the annoying little pest that he was pointed out that as they intended to use children aged twelve to eighteen – so as to hit the Districts were it hurt most – most of them would need training if they were to survive past the first night of their planned arena.
"Your grand Games will be no Games at all! – Just a few hours of bloody meaningless slaughter!" Clark had sniffed indignantly.
Kravosk rolled his eyes as he could practically hear the man's voice squawking in his head like some meddlesome bird.
"Ignore Clark," Kravosk growled. "Include all your designs Senna. We'll think of something else to keep the little mites alive long enough," Kravosk perused one of Senna's particularly gruesome designs with a dark smirk.
"Parachutes," Senna announced suddenly.
Kravosk snapped around to face her, his brow furrowed, "what?"
"It was an idea Clark was mentioning. One may sponsor a player in the Games and send them in 'parachutes' to aid their survival," Senna explained clinically.
Kravosk rubbed his hand along his jaw thoughtfully as he considered the idea.
And then with a great booming laugh he shrugged carelessly with an easy grin.
"Why not? We'll let the little fool build these into the grand spectacles he wants them to be. Me and you really know what these are about don't we Senna," Kravosk looped his arm companionably around Senna's narrow rigid shoulders, a sinister note to his voice.
"And what is that Sir?" Senna intoned, not a trace of curiousity in her voice.
"Brutal glorious slaughter to show those pesky Districts precisely who is in charge!"
"As you wish Sir. All details will be finalised in a meeting tonight with all attending. I hand in my final designs in the morning to the construction team to start building the arena," Senna informed him.
"Good…good," Kravosk nodded with a wide grin.
Senna silently rolled up the blueprints and gathering them up walked towards the door.
"Oh and Senna!" Kravosk called.
Senna turned expectantly.
"We won't call them players," Kravosk considered contemplatively, "no players sounds too positive, too voluntary," he continued.
He paused for a moment before there came a sudden light to his eyes and he grinned with malice.
"Tributes! That's it Senna!" Kravosk laughed loudly.
"Two tributes, one male, one female between the ages of twelve to eighteen from the Twelve Districts of Panem to be offered up to the glory of the Hunger Games!"
"Hunger Games Sir?" Senna repeated questioning.
"There are many different types and things to hunger for Senna and I will make sure the Districts feel every kind in these games. Hunger for sustenance, for love, for human comfort…hunger for life itself."
Senna nodded once in a show of approval before she turned sharply on her heel.
President Kravosk returned back to his marble balcony overlooking his glorious Capitol and beyond the Capitol the Twelve Districts of Panem that wouldn't know what hit them when the announcement was made tonight.
"Let the First Hunger Games begin…"
...
So for the tributes…
Name;
Age;
Preferred District?
Strength (with weapon or maybe they don't have one & personality strengths also);
Weaknesses? (physically and personality-wise)
Role in the Rebellion; (fighter, communicator, doctor – healer - , family in the rebellion, maybe they didn't fight at all – too young, thought it was too much violence?);
Family (try and include any particular relations you want stressed; like a particular bond with their brother etc.);
Appearance (I don't want to sound mean or anything – this is meant to be a SYOT after all but please don't make it something unrealistic like multi-coloured hair and changing coloured eyes…etc);
Personality (at least three solid adjectives e.g. stoic, silent, determined);
Their attitude towards the Games (do they want to win? – I just thought given that this was the First Hunger Games things like Career tributes wouldn't really be around yet. Do they want to defy the Capitol in some ways during the Games?)
Open to a romantic relationship? (Or are they already involved in one? Back home? Etc.)
Alliances?
Token? (doesn't have to have one)
Would you mind terribly if they were killed off during the bloodbath?
Any particular preferences to 'outfit' / Chariot costume choice?
Preferred death?
Training Score?
'Interviewing Angle'? (I'm not really sure how that would play out with no mentors or any previous experience but maybe your tribute is super manipulative and really wants to win?)
Anyways…phew; that's about it. Sorry if that list of things was too much and took the fun completely away from creating your own tribute or anything. First SYOT and I wanted to make sure I did it properly.
Please PM me with your 'tribute' and include any additional information you want, or anything you think may help me to portray your character better (maybe a quote of something you can imagine them saying? – Entirely up to you) But please...don't send me any Mary-Sues or Gary-Stus because I will either completely change them until you don't recognise them or not use them at all.