I have decided that if you would like to submit a tribute profile for this story, you may. Just be forewarned, you will probably be as dead as a doornail by the end if I keep writing it as I am planning on writing it... so, yeah. Just leave your name, age, gender, physical description, three words describing the personality and district in the comments (so long as there is still room in that district...). What's it gonna hurt, right? And may the odds be ever in your favor (they're not)!
The District One tributes were rolling out of the door by the time Cinna had finished talking to me. The four of them were standing on a giganic float bedecked with silk and velvet, gold and platinum, wooden carvings and surprisingly simple chairs that each of them were sitting on. I suppose it was so that the chairs did not distract from the glory of what they themselves were wearing.
After they were out of sight, Nero's voice blasted through the building again. "Welcome, the people of Panem, the District One tributes!" Suddenly, a screen flickered on on the ceiling overhead, and we were seeing film footage of the District One tributes rolling down the street on their float. The cameras zoomed in on the young girl with the snow-white hair, "Crystal Pierce!" then the screens flipped over to the older girl from District One, "Dianna Janson!" They then flipped over to the bulky one from District One whose name I had already forgotten, "Blaise Donnel!" and then to the younger boy, "Onyx Cardenian!"
As the last syllable of Onyx's name was bellowed out, the District Two tributes started moving. They were standing on a float as well that was designed to look like they were standing atop a train car, each of them with weapons in hand that they promptly began waving in dizzying patterns for the crowd. They were in a skin-tight armor that made me think of chain mail, but I wasn't sure just what it was. "The People of Panem welcome the District Two tributes!" the screen overhead switched from the District One float to the District Two float, and was greeted by the bellow of noise in the background. "Maroon Ison!" A girl with auburn hair flitted across the screen. "Thalia Mahija!" A girl with black hair and blue eyes, with a calm demeanor flashed by. "Ty Hawthorne!" The guy I had taken note of before, who looked like Mom's old friend, Gale, reappeared. As I looked at this boy again, I decided that he certainly was Gale's son. The final District Two tribute went by before I even paid attention to what he looked like, "Otaco Mierez!"
On the last syllable of Otaco's name, the District Three tributes started leaving. Two of them were on floats but they were separate from one another. Their stylists had clearly taken the idea of a float to a literal level; they were zooming around on hoverboards, waving at the audiences. Between the two hoverboarders, the other two tributes were walking with live wires in their hands, clapping the wires together every now and then to send a huge pillar of sparks flying into the air. "The People of Panm would like to welcome the District Three tributes!" I know he said their names, but I stopped paying attention. Instead, I was watching the screen to see if Ty would fly by again. Something was weird about that boy, even though I hadn't met him...
The District Four tributes began moving, and I assumed that Nero had finished reciting off the names of the District Three tributes. I cursed myself slightly for not paying attention; I was going to be fighting these people to the death in a matter of days, and I hadn't even bothered to learn their names? Urgh. I looked at the District Four tributes again, and saw that their stylists had obviously collaborated. The girls were wearing almost identical sea green dresses that had the occasional swirls of blue, and wrapped around the dress like a Roman toga were thin-meshed sea nets. They stood like goddesses of the sea on a float designed to look like a boat, and on either side of the float were the two male districts from District Four, who were completely topless and very nearly bottomless, with blue paint swirled along their legs and their privates covered mostly by the saddles of the horses they were sitting on. The horses were white, but their manes and tails were dyed to look like what a sea would be. I had only seen the sea once... we stopped in District Four one time on the way to visit someone in District Two, who I couldn't remember anymore. We spent a day by the ocean, and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Ash was only three so I doubt he'd remember it, and Blue hadn't even been born yet, but that was alright. It was one of the few things that I remembered from before the war.
The District Five tributes started rolling out and I cursed myself again for missing out on the names of the tributes. I had been too lost in my own thoughts, but I was determined to pay attention this go around. The little girl was in the lead, on a tiny little pony that was painted yellow. Her dress crackled with lightning and when she waved at the audience, electricity leaped from her fingers up into the other three tributes were on full-sized horses, arrayed behind her like points on a spear. When the cameras took on the tributes from above, I saw arcing wires connecting the four of them that glowed as though a netting of lightning was cast atop their heads. "Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome the District Five tributes!" The cameras zoomed in on the little girl. "Kiki Mira!"the little girl looked up at the camera, her eyes seeming to cut through the lense and stare at me. I knew that she wasn't really staring at me and that anybody else looking at the screen would be experiencing the same thing, but it was relatively terrifying. I missed the other three tributes, but I figured that I was at least improving.
When District Six started moving, I didn't even bother trying to pay attention. No one was ever really worried about anyone from six. They were all on horses, and they were dressed to look like train conductors. Aside from that, it was relatively boring to watch.
Then, District Seven started moving. Everyone from that district was on horses except for the nymph girl, who walked with a gentle grace until she was out of the room and on the street. When the cameras flickered over to District Seven, though, she was twirling and dancing around the horses in a display of control and delicacy, occasionally doing flips or jumping clear over the horses of her compatriots. The thin green gossamer held to her body, never once slipping to show too much or too little, but staying in place as though it had been glued to her body. I learned her name, but soon forgot the others... Mirabella Mason.
District Eight was slightly too eager and started moving just barely too soon, but almost all of us caught it. They were all on a float that was very plain; basically a platform covered in fabric. The platform was led by 2 horses dressed in fabrics, and the tributes themselves were covered in so much fabric they might have been a sofa. I assumed the particularly large fabric blob was the huge guy I had taken note of before, but aside from that I had little to no clue. I felt bad for them, honestly; they weren't going to get any funding looking like that. Even their faces were covered, so I couldn't mentally pair faces with names.
District Nine was on a float as well. The float was covered in thigh-high golden grain, in which the tributes stood. The female tributes were in simple cotton summer dresses, while the male tributes were in tan cotton shirts over dark brown pants. The girls were doing their very best to look pretty and vaguely seductive or memorable by giving the crowd half-shy smiles and running their fingers over the tops of the grains, swaying slightly back and forth. The crowd cheered loudly, but they didn't impress me much. Their names went right on over my head. Maybe they should have impressed me, though... so many of them were flying over my head that I was obviously underestimating a lot of them.
District Ten had four horses with them, but only two of the tributes were actually horseback. One of the boys and the less graceful of the twin girls were dancing their horses back and forth in a braid pattern, while the more graceful girl and a very athletic boy were on the ground with their horses. Every now and then the girl would spin up and over her horse to land in a crouch on the other side and continue dancing through the street like a ballerina. She was impressive, but not nearly as impressive as the nymph girl from district seven... Mirabella, I think her name was. But I managed to remember the last name of the twins, Benson.
District Eleven had a float with a fake tree in the middle, and in the branches of the tree sat the four tributes. They were in simple clothes done to represent trees and agriculture but I really didn't pay attention to the details, I was so terrified. We were going next. I had no idea what I could possibly do to look elegant or memorable, all I knew was that I was shaking. I was shaking so hard that I was probably going to fall off the horse, and unlike the nymph girl or the graceful twin, I was definitely not elegant enough to make the fall look like that was what I meant to do.
How on earth had all the other tributes developed this choreographed shit while I was sitting here in a pretty dress with absolutely ZERO idea of what was going on?!
Before I had the time to voice my concerns, Cinna smacked my horse on the butt and we were moving. Shit, had the last tribute from eleven already been announced?! I hadn't even heard it...!
After approximately three steps, I started smelling smoke. Oh, god, something was already going wrong. I was going to die on this horse before I ever even made it to the Games because that was about as lucky as I could possibly be. What was that smoke possibly coming from?!
I looked down, and saw that those weird boots my horse had been wearing were burning. Their flames reached up and licked across the horse's side, catching the reins on fire, the saddle on fire, and the laces on my shoes on fire. I cringed, thinking that the heat was about to burn me... but it didn't.
I reached out to touch the flames hesitantly, only to feel something like a warm breeze dance across the palm of my hand. The fire reflected in the diamonds on my dress, hair, and shoes and made them look like they were burning as well. I looked up and saw that we had left the big room and were now out in the open.
The crowds above us were dead silent. They were watching with their mouths open, and in those closest to me I could see my fire reflected in their eyes. Ash, John and Allie were behind me, but their horses weren't aflame. It made me feel horrified, and slightly embarrassed, and very, very alone.
But I was sure I was going to make an impression.
After several moments, Nero seemed to realize he was supposed to be narrating our entrance, as well. I could hear that he was speaking but couldn't make any sense of it over the blood pounding in my ears.
A new sound did reach my ears, though. The sound of a single person clapping. I looked up, and then the sound had multiplied. Soon, the crowd overhead was roaring, their yells deafening me, and I let go of my horse's reins with one hand. I reached up into the air and waved tentatively, then gave them a smile. I saw myself on several screens above the crowd, with a smile and waving. I was stunned slightly by the screens, because it looked nothing like me. I seemed even more otherworldly than I had before, with the warm air from the fake fire making my hair float around as though I was some long forgotten goddess of fire.
And the crowd loved me.
I just kept smiling and waving, doing my very best to seem personable and proper, when I heard the District 13 tributes being announced. I was tempted to look back, but I decided to keep my eyes trained on what was in front of me instead. I could ask to see a rerun of District Thirteen later.
The horse seemed to really know precisely what he was doing. At the end of the street, it opened into a very large circle almost like a cul-de-sac and on the other side of the circle was a huge stage, on which sat Nero and Kit. I was somewhat surprised to see Kit; I had assumed she would have been facing severe punishment for referring to us as kids the other night. But there she was, none the less.
The floats, horses and people were going in a circle around the cul-de-sac, and our horses fit into the ring perfectly. After a few minutes, District Thirteen joined us, and the horses and floats stopped moving.
"The People of Panem would like to formally welcome these 52 tributes to our first ever Graveyard Games. May you represent your districts with honor and with courage, and may the odds be ever in your favor. We would like to get to know each of your stories, and so we will interview each and every one of you after this short commercial break."
The screens overhead then flickered to some advertisement for pure gold tattoos, and the carts started moving again. This time, they went off a small street on the right, where each district got off their floats or horses and moved inside.
Here we go...
As always, please PLEASE review/favorite/follow! When you do, a teenage girl squeals with happiness (not even joking. Literal squeals. Like... I'm pretty sure my parents think I'm a freak.)