Next, we have District Three with Rory and Ellie.
Only two announcements this time: I have finished the blog for this story, you can find it at venus love 75th hg DOT weebly DOT com. (remove spaces)
If you don't like the face claim for your Tribute, shoot me a PM with a face claim and I will change it. I tried my best. Stylists and Mentors will be added when everyone is paired up.
Second: You can vote for who you want paired together from now. I would advise waiting until the Reapings are finished to get a taste of everybody BUT if you know you want a character paired with someone or feel you have enough information on the blog, go for it!
Questions (more than one but simple):
Favorite faceclaim
Thoughts on the blog?
Anything I could add? (like information, pages and so on).
Few questions answered from the reviews:
It is Akhal, it is a breed a horse as far as I know. I spelled it wrong. I am sorry to her submitter.
My profile has been updated.
Enjoy!
Rory James, 18
District Three Male
Terex was a hell of a drug. The exciting rush that it gave me no different from the feeling being in a fight gave you. The sensation of being alive. Most people formed their judgment on me the moment they found out about the drugs. I transformed from a child into a waste of air, hooded hooligan only interested in robbing them to fuel my habit. It wasn't true, I can fuel my own dirty habits. Then again, I never saw the harm in drugs, not drugs like Terex.
People spent their life high on painkillers to remove the strain of heavy work, yet Terex somehow made me different? It wasn't even harmful. Sure, if taken by a person with a bad heart, the increased speed and adrenaline could be fatal. Yet, as far as I knew, I held a healthy heart so the drug was no different from having a fight or a near-death experience. Just without the physical harm.
Everyone had their drug, something that keeps them going. For some people, it is a couple of drinks after a late night, a woman who is not their wife or something as simple as sleeping. Everyone has their escapes. The thing was, mine was starting to fade.
I had been doing the drugs for a few years now, since my grandfather's death at sixteen. I even did Terex for a short period before that. I always knew it would fade at some point but only now was I experiencing it.
The rush it gave me help me forget about my life yet now, I felt more and more memories creeping in. They came in flashes, mixed within my ecstasy. The fear struck eyes of my dead grandfather, tearing the throats of his killers out with my bare teeth (even though they deserved it, still far from pleasant imagery) and even negative thoughts about how much of a lowlife I had become. I tried to shake them off but once a single thought or image has got to you, that is your high ruined. Then you just ride it out until you come down.
Weather for better or for worse, I had perfectly timed my retreat back into reality with the start of the reapings. I could feel myself gaining more control over my legs as my heart rate slowed. However, I still dragged my feet, there was little point in being the first there, I'd only have to wait. Sure, I'd rather have been on a high while the whole drab experience played before my eyes. However, it was best not to be on an adrenaline rush around so many Peacekeepers. I had confidence I could control it but you could never guarantee the strength of the high.
As the escort moved towards the male section, mixing it up a little, I glanced over my shoulder to see my father. He stood with the parents, a concerned look on his face. A good act for a man who blamed me for my mother's death. Yet, like every year, he stood there with a concerned expression, concerned that his only son would go down just like his mother.
I always scoffed at his fears, after all, lightning never strikes the same place twice. Not unless you are me.
Ellie Nimrod, 18
District Three Female
I could feel my stomach turning as I sat in the justice building. It seemed impossible that I would be going into the Games. It happened to someone every year but it was never anyone close to home. The closest it got was a boy from my class, then he just became an empty chair in the classroom. To think it was me, the female Tribute from Three would be me, I just couldn't wrap my head around it.
It didn't come from a place of arrogance, more of a place of confusion. It just didn't seem real. I had plans for tonight, people to meet up, dinner on the stove with so much to do, how could it ever be me. It was a selfish thought to think that every Tribute before me was a low life bum with no future plans but it was never easy to accept your possible looming death. I was still a child, I hadn't grown enough to die yet. It just didn't seem fair.
My parents didn't help. They tried to hold back their tears but they flowed freely from their eyes. It was gutwrenching as much as it was alien. I and my parents never had the best relationship, spending most of their days away from me whether it was with work or other activities. I almost raised myself and I struggled to remember the last time we had a real heart to heart. Yet, as they stood before me, both reduced to tears, my mother mumbling about how unfair the situation was, how it shouldn't have been her child. Only then did I realize how much they loved me.
No matter how much time they spent away from me, I was still their daughter. To them, the hours they spent away from me could have been an act of love. Making sure I had enough money to afford some luxuries in life. Until now, I only saw their absence.
I wish I could have comforted them, hugged them tightly and tell them I would be home soon. Thing was, I didn't have a clue what I was doing. Sure, I was smart but a master of weapons? Not so much. Not to mention the twist could mean I would wish death if I was to win.
I was almost certain of my attraction to women but even I had no sorted through those feelings and emotions yet. What if I was wrong, forced to marry a gender I was not even attracted to? Or worse, what if the gender was correct but they were the vilest person to grace Panem? A twisted, trained killer who took glory, pride, and honor in ending the lives of weaker people live on television. What if it was someone I hated and had to spend the rest of my life with, would it really be a victory?
As these manic thoughts raced around inside of my head, my mother stumbled over to me, gripping my face and pulling it close to hers. I looked back into her chocolate colored eyes, glossy with tears, and felt my stomach drop a moment, the calm face I had worn starting to crumble. It completely shattered upon her speaking, the anger, and fear of seeing the strong woman who brought me into this world torn apart by such a simple act as drawing my name.
"Promise me you will win," she said, her voice laced with fear and mucus. "No matter what, please come home to me."
Rory James, 18
Train Rides
My eyes scanned the train, trying my best to ignore the sensation of my stomach turning. The train was new, shiny and high tech, it was unlikely my mother was transported on this model. Yet, she would have seen the same things, the same trees, the same hills and lakes that dotted the wilds. I wondered if she would have been handling it better than me or if I was succeeding in appearing unmoved. I hoped it was the latter, for my sake.
The truth was, I was terrified. Most people wouldn't have suspected that of me but it was true. I always felt like my final moments would have been that of an overdose or a fight I couldn't win. I never imagined it would be a slaughter in front of the whole of Panem. Maybe I would die at the hands of someone with mercy, a quick death. Sadly, I knew I wouldn't go down without a fight so my death wouldn't be anything of the sort. In short, it was never a nice feeling to be told you were going to die, let alone when it was for entertainment.
However, despite my fear, I wasn't accepting my death just yet. Streetwise, I was smart, I also knew how to fight. As long as I picked my fights wisely and only attacked people I knew I could beat, I could win. I'd just have to hope that my partner was also up for the fight.
I looked towards my mentor Beete and frowned. He was close to his fifties, even if his face remained youthful. He would have been mentoring eighteen years ago, which meant he knew someone I never did.
"Did you mentor my mother?" I asked quickly, breaking the silence.
Beete looked over to Wiress and sighed. "We had hoped it was just a coincidence-"
"I told you it wasn't," Wiress said in a hushed voice. "Same name, same age, it-"
"Had to be him, I know," Beete said with a grunt.
"Your mum was in the Games?" Ellie gasped. I looked at her a felt my blood boil, I had just made myself look weak.
"I didn't know her, I was just curious," I growled, turning away from the girl and my mentors. The room fell silent once more.
"Y'know, she was still your mum," Ellie replied a few moments later, sympathy coating her voice. I wasn't lying, though. I really didn't know my mum. I was only a few months old when she was reaped and died so I never really had anything to miss. Sure, it hurt during parents evening, but then I had my grandfather. I was also not lying about how little I cared. I cared about my mum but not who she was.
I didn't want to see how she died, if she was popular, what training score she got, I knew it would only hurt me. I had never heard anyone back home speak of her aside from my family. My grandfather talked about her in regards to how I needed to make her proud, my father blamed me for making her take out more Tesserae's. So I always assumed she never lasted long nor was she popular. But I think I was more frightened of who she was as a person.
After years of having no mother, I designed my own to fit me. In my final moments, if I were to die in the Arena, I wanted to die with the belief that the woman I believe she was would be on the other side. Not who she really was.
Ellie Nimrod, 18
Train Rides
I ran my finger along the three-dimensional chess board, feeling the smoothness of the glass in contrast to the mahogany structure, the grooves poking through the varnish coating. As I circled the board, I planned out a strategy within my head, taking in each move an opponent could make.
As I allowed my sneakers to squeak on the polished, wooden floors, the darkroom became flooded with light. I glanced up to see the mechanical door sliding open, a sleepy Wiress stepping inside the room. I smiled at the woman, partially excited that it was not Rory. He seemed like a sweet boy but too distant for my taste, I felt like I'd never truly get to understand or know him. Not just that, the more about him I felt I learned, the more merciful I would become towards him. I couldn't allow that, not in a death Game.
Even if I was paired with him, he was my enemy. If I was correct in my attraction to women, he was a lifetime of hell. I couldn't picture having a child or marrying someone I had no form of attraction to. If we were paired, as much as I hated to admit it, one of us would have to go I was determined for it not to be me. I made my mother a promise after all.
"You play?" Wiress asked timidly, approaching me like I was armed. I looked back to the chess set and smiled.
"Best in my school...although, I am only just coming to grips with such a set as this."
Wiress gave an understanding nod. "That will come in handy-"
"I wish," I sighed, sinking back down into my chair. "If only you could win with chess, there would be a lot more winners from Three, eh?" I said to the middle-aged woman.
She let out a pleasant laugh as she moved towards the board, tapping her finger on the glass. "Strategy, you have it," she said bluntly, a wide smile on her face.
I returned the smile but it quickly dropped. "Yeah, I don't think it will do me much good, I think this year is going to be unpredictable-"
"They always are!" she cheered, throwing her arms out, either side of her body. "But so is chess." I glanced up at the board and groaned.
Wiress was right, chess held many different ways to claim victory, even I had yet to memorize them. Yet, the Games were different. In chess, I could read the person against me, I wouldn't be able to do much if that person was hiding in a tree, an arrow trained on me.
As I sat there, my eyes focused on the pieces, Wiress shuffled over to me, grabbing my face and turning it so I was looking her in the eye. "Everyone is playing a game," she said slowly as if to make sure I caught it all. "You just have to play yours smarter."
"Everyone has their weapons, be it smarts, strength or a sword yet it is the battle itself that chooses the victor,"