Intro A/N: Hello everyone! If we haven't met before, I'm Rune Whisperer, although most just call me Rune! What you're seeing on your screen is the first chapter of my second SYOT, titled The Angel Experiment. Yes, I know I'm in the middle of one already, but I'm fully confident in my ability to complete The Angel Experiment while continuing to write The Queen's Gambit. Now, this particular SYOT is going to be a bit unique, in the sense that it is a resurrection SYOT, more commonly known as a 'second-chance' or 'all-star' SYOT. This means that it allows you to submit tributes of yours that have already died in the Games, giving them a second shot at potential victory.
Without further ado, here is the first chapter of The Angel Experiment: Even Angels Fall.
"Once upon a time, a prince fell madly in love with a demon from the Underworld. When she disappeared back into the sea, he ached so much for her that he walked into the ocean and never returned." ~Marie Lu
Ithuriel Riparian (35) Second Gamemaker
The smell of rotting flesh hits Ithuriel hard as he steps off the hovercraft's ladder, his feet still tingling from the electric current. He wavers for a moment, bile rising in his throat, nose wrinkling in disgust. Whose blasted idea was it to construct this Arena in the first place?
Traversing the incomplete Arena has never been something the Second Gamemaker takes particular pleasure from- he doubts that he'll enjoy it when it's complete, either. The harsh sting of artificial wind and scent of decaying skin makes his skin itch and stomach roil. However, it is a path he takes on such a regular basis that he's learned to withstand the sights and smells of the place. It is their creation, after all, the Gamemakers. Perhaps their greatest, at least since the 247th Games- a labyrinthine desert oasis. But even if Ithuriel detests the smells of putrescine and cadaverine, orders are orders, and he has no choice but to continue forward.
As the Second Gamemaker, it's one of Ithuriel's duties to oversee the construction of the Arena construction for the annual death tournament, known as the Hunger Games. He's held this position for many, many years- over a decade, in fact- and seen many an Arena built, but there's been nothing quite like this masterpiece. Some of the workers say that this is Lailah Requiem's last hurrah- her final gift before stepping down from the position of Head Gamemaker, and handing the role off to another so that she might pursue another path.
He nearly scoffs at the thought. Lailah? Step down? When hell freezes over. Even if this Arena is one of her more decadent designs, that is no grounds for her retirement. Lailah has been the Head Gamemaker for over half her life- she's worked hard to get to where she is now. It had taken no small amount of scheming and plotting for her to get her way through the years; she'd be mad to let the position go, even now. Not when she's sacrificed so much to get it.
Their little team of Gamemakers works well together, too. They meld, in a way that only close friends can. It takes only a glance from Lailah for Ithuriel to understand whatever it might be that she's trying to get across, and he can often articulate it in a gentler way than the Head Gamemaker can. Lailah is built for orders and commands. Not council rooms and delicate conversations. Clariel is the backbone of their little trio- she has the fire to match that of Lailah, when she chooses, but she can also soften enough to compliment his own smooth edges and jumpy nature. Together, they are a cohesive unit, a single, working whole.
Speaking of Clariel… she's the entire reason he's braving these wretched winds. They'd been in the middle of a council meeting with a few of President Amendiel's advisors, reviewing their plan for the Arena and the 254th annual Hunger Games. They'd taken a brief breathing break, to stretch and relieve themselves, before planning to come back together and continue the discussion in five minutes. Clariel, however, hadn't shown up after the allotted amount of time had passed. So Lailah had sent Ithuriel out to find her after a brief conversation, bidding him go with a message that would surely get the Head of Mutt Design back in the Capitol buildings within a few seconds. At least it would get Ithuriel back there in a hurry if he heard it.
He finds her on the third level of the Arena, where the scent of decaying bodies is strongest. His stomach churns in revolt at the smell- but he continues forward, despite the protests of his aggravated senses.
Clariel's red hair is pulled back into a sleek, elegant braid today. The throne she's draped across is carved out of a single piece of bone- massive in size and stature, with painstakingly detailed engravings along its legs and feet. The arms are in the shape of an overly large femur, and she's thrown her legs over one of them, sprawled out across the grand chair. Her posture speaks of grace and ease- two things that she's always possessed- two things that have made her the envy of a great number of her underlings.
He raises an eyebrow at the woman. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be working with your team on last-minute adjustments to any of the mutts you've prepared?"
Clariel's eyes are distant as she shrugs. "I just needed something to do with my hands, I suppose." Indeed, her pale fingers are hovering over the stone, dancing across the engraving like white butterflies. Her lips curl in a rueful smile as her gaze refocuses. "I also wanted to get away from that horrid council room for a few hours. I could hardly feel myself breathe in there. Too much serious conversation."
Ithuriel laughs, brief and bittersweet. He knows the feeling all too well. "Please. We're Gamemakers. Any serious conversation we have goes something like this: Lailah says, 'Ithuriel, I've made the following unilateral decision' and I say, 'perhaps you might have consulted me first,' and she says 'it's a bit late to be worrying about that now, isn't it?' and I say, 'very well.' Domesticality has never been an option for those like us."
A smirk plays around the edges of Clariel's mouth. "Fair enough." She continues to run her hands over the stone tablet on her lap, her skin barely brushing the face of the carving. Her gestures, however, have become a little too covetous for Ithuriel's liking- the gleam in her eye as she stares down at the slab only adding to his unease.
"So," she says, abruptly, and her unsettling green eyes flick back up, pinning him where he stands. "What was Lailah's unilateral decision?"
Ithuriel shifts a little under the intensity of her stare. He wets his lips a few times, intaking a long breath of air before saying, "She wants you to allow the seventh Patron into the Arena."
Clariel swings her legs off the arm of the throne. She leans forward, bracing her elbows on her knees. Her fingers have tightened around the stone tablet, knuckles turning nearly as white as the bone she sits on. "What?" Her voice is tight as well- strung out like the corpses adorning the walls and ceiling of this horrid throne room.
He swallows, suddenly feeling very much like he's five years old again, standing in the kitchen as his mother demands the answer to whether he stole his sister's hair ties again.
(He had that time. Tugged them apart and woven them together to make a colorful length of rope, which he'd often take out and wrap around his fingers, tying it into a makeshift noose when he couldn't think of anything better to do.)
His voices comes out scratchy as he repeats, "She wants you to-"
"I know what she said, dimwit," Clariel snaps, and her eyes ignite like an emerald wildfire. She stands quickly, and her heels click across the hard floor as she strides towards Ithuriel- past him. "I just want to know why." As she stalks by, she tosses the stone tablet at him. Ithuriel reaches out to catch it, his quick reflexes the only thing saving it from tumbling to the ground and shattering into pieces.
He turns to call after Clariel- to request what she wants him to do with the inscription, but the Head of Mutt Design is already gone, the only trace of her a strand of scarlet hair caught on the rough edge of the hewn stone.
Ithuriel turns the slab over in his hands, and his eyes alight on the engraved words his colleague had been obsessively pouring over not ten minutes prior.
Here's some honesty. God knows even angels fall.
Outro A/N: If you've made it this far, I owe you a big thank you, both for sticking with me, and sticking with the first prologue of this story! I'm so glad you're here, and I do hope you enjoyed this chapter. Feel free to drop a review below, constructive crit is always appreciated, as I'm always looking to improve!
The second prologue, Of Gods and Monsters, will be released on June 5th. There will be four prologues in total before we reach the introductions stage of this SYOT.
The next few paragraphs (holy shit, when did I get so prolific) of this author's note simply explain a little bit more of the SYOT. If you're in the SYOT Verses Discord (a very wonderful place that I would highly recommend joining if you haven't already) you already know the majority of this information, so feel free to stop reading here, or skip down to the shoutout section towards the end :)
Anyhow, if any of you are interested in submitting, the form and rules can be found below. They can also be found on my bio, along with other information regarding the SYOT. There is a blog for this story, which contains the majority of the worldbuilding information that you will need to know before submitting an original tribute to The Angel Experiment.
This brings me to my next point. As a partial resurrection SYOT, things will be working a little differently than they normally would. I am still accepting 24 tributes, both original and resubmitted. I will be accepting a maximum of 12 resubmitted tributes, and resubs who were bloodbathed in their previous stories stand more of a chance of getting in than those who placed high. If you have any further questions regarding this SYOT, please feel free to DM / PM me- I promise I don't bite!
Finally, before I dip out of this chapter and leave you with the form and your thoughts, I'd like to give a shoutout to some very lovely people.
The first one goes out to Plat, or Platrium. Thanks for being an amazing spoiler buddy and soundboard- it's always fun talking to you, and remember that you're wonderful and brilliant, no matter what!
Secondly, a shoutout to Tia, aka contemporarydancer2, my second spoiler buddy and beta reader for this story! Thank you so much for providing your amazing input, it's always a joy working with you! I love talking to you, and your support has gotten me through so much more than you think. I'm lucky to have you as an internet sister, and I couldn't ask for anyone better. Happy early birthday, sis!
And, finally, a shoutout to Ben, otherwise known as My-Mental-Mind. You're awesome, and you deserve the world and all the d1f slots in it! Thanks for being the supportive, creative, spine-whipping bean that you are. Happy birthday, big bro, and may your life be filled with many filthy monks and echoing honks in the years to come!
Over, out, and may the odds be ever in your favor,
-Rune
Rules:
The overall tribute submission rate is 3. You may submit up to two resurrected tributes, and up to three original tributes.
This SYOT allows both original and resubmitted tributes.
This is not a first-come, first-serve SYOT.
I am aiming for the tribute submission deadline to be July 11th. This can and will be extended if needed.
I will not be accepting tributes through reviews. In order to submit, you may either PM me your form on FFN, where I am under the pseudonym Rune Whisperer, or you may DM me on Discord, under Rune#5070.
When creating an original tribute, please follow the general guidelines of my Verse! These can be found on the blog, at the - angel - experiment . weebly . com
I will not be taking personal connections into account when both accepting tributes and selecting my Victor for The Angel Experiment. Everyone gets an equal chance, no matter how long we've known each other.
If you have any other questions regarding The Angel Experiment, don't hesitate to reach out! I promise I don't bite!
Form:
(anything in parentheses is general guidelines and tips for when filling the form out. Please delete them before submitting.)
Name: (it doesn't necessarily have to be District-related, but it's that much better if it is)
Age: (if they're not in the 12-18 range, you better have a damn good reason why not)
District: (1-12. Please provide a primary District and two backups)
Gender / Preferred Pronouns: (tributes of all types are welcome!)
Sexuality: (see above!)
Appearance:
-Faceclaim: (this can either be a link , name, or both, whichever you prefer)
Personality: (detailed please. I'm not asking you to write an essay, but I need a good take on what your tribute is like! The more detail, the better)
-Strengths: (a minimum of four mental traits, please)
-Weaknesses: (must either match or exceed the number of listed strengths, and must also be mental)
-Fatal Flaw: (what's the worst thing about them? Are they gullible? Do they care too much about their friends? Are they particularly greedy or prideful?)
Blog Quote: (just something your tribute might say. Will be included on the blog!)
Backstory: (go all out here! Whether they're crazy or ordinary, a regular farmer or a cult leader, they all have a chance!)
Relevant People: (family, friends, support group. Just a general description of their personality and relationship to your tribute will suffice)
Reaped / Volunteered:
-Reason / Reaction: (for Volunteered tributes, please include both)
-Token: (not required, but it gives your tribute a bit of pop)
Allies? (tell me everything. Literally everything. Who are they looking to ally with? What kind of people would attract them? What kind of people would they attract? Are they picky about who they ally with? Or do they want to pull the lone wolf card and go solo? Why?)
Romance? (sameeeeeee, give me ALL THE DEETS)
Weapon of Choice:
Chariot Outfit / Strategy: (outfit is optional, the strategy part isn't)
Private Session Strategy / Preferred Score: (keep in mind that you might not get the exact score you want, but it'll most likely be in the ballpark)
Interview Outfit / Strategy: (outfit is optional here as well, the strategy part isn't)
Predicted / Preferred Placement: (no promises, buddy)
Preferred Death: (I have a bad habit of writing gore-filled deaths, be careful here when you tell me I have free-reign)
*Previous Placement: (non-applicable for original tributes. Please note that Bloodbathed Resubmissions are more likely to get in than those who ranked high)
*Previous Author: (non-applicable for original tributes.)
*Previous Story: (non-applicable for original tributes. )
Other: (literally a place for you to hit me with anything else about your tribute. Theme songs, likes, dislikes, weird trivia facts, strategies for the Games… literally anything.)