I am back again with the next chapter... Training is a bit of a drag but we're only 5 or so chapters away from the real action! The bloodbath is written and I haven't done the usual thing of only killing three people! I've gone for what I hope to be a more realistic where I kill around 7 or 8...
I am not impressed with this chapter whatsoever, although I am growing fonder of Archie... He seems like a real person.
So let's finish this second day of training...
Archie Cross, District 12.
Ever since Livvya told me that Carrick was interested in an alliance, the feeling of elation I've been carrying round with me has yet to deflate. Since the total embarrassment of the Chariot Rides I was convinced that Livvya and I would be stuck on our own, as I told Effie: Who would want to ally with two tributes that were paraded before the whole of Panem completely naked and wearing nothing but black body shimmer? Never mind that these two very same tributes hail from District 12, the very same district that has the poorest record of success in regards to the Hunger Games. Some has gone as far to say as any of the tributes from my district are cursed to fail, which I suppose doesn't bode well for me at all seeing as, despite my disbelief in superstition, it seems the Cross family has been cursed by God, fate or whatever it is that decided whatever path we are to walk upon. It would be selfish of me not to win, to deprive my family of another son in such a short period of time.
Subconsciously my hand reaches to the crucifix around my neck; the token I will be taking into the games. I don't personally believe in God, for if there was an Omni benevolent being out there why would he take Aly? Why would he allow those awful people to taunt him? Why wouldn't he have given Aly the strength to endure the bullying? But on the other hand why would he have put Aly, who was always so firm in his beliefs, in a situation where he would have been the butt of cruel jokes? But I have come to a realisation during my time here in the Capitol, my determination to live will not be enough to grant my wish of returning home and wiping the vicious smirks from all of my former bully's faces and growing old with a woman I am yet to fall in love with. Like Aly, I must draw strength from my belief; not belief in God or in some other supernatural being. Belief in myself, belief in the fact that I am not like any of the other tributes from District 12: I am not like the Seam children with olive skin and grey eyes nor am I a merchant child with blonde locks and blue eyes. I am Archie Cross, with my short golden hair, tanned skin and green eyes. I need to believe that out of everyone it will be me, Archie Cross, who can bring the title of Victor back to District 12.
But I have allies in Livvya and Carrick from District 10; and between us all we seem to have a good set of skills and I can see my chances of actually winning slowly rising. Carrick can tie the most complex of knots with complete ease, Livvya has proven to be incredibly useful in her ability to pick up survival skills rather quickly as well as climb like a spider monkey and to my complete surprise it appears I have a natural affinity for archery. I can hit the target and fire arrows rather rapidly, so it seems as though we have managed to cover all areas. Currently, we're learning how to identify plants by species and their uses and I've picked up a few tips but remembering large amounts of information was never my forte but I think I know how to identify poisonous plants which is altogether very useful; If by some miracle I can get my hands on a bow and some arrows then I could lace the arrowheads in poison. While I'm trying to arrange plants into categories I notice Carrick's pile of roots and berries remains untouched and I look over to see him staring off into the distance.
"Caz, what's up?" He shakes his head and turns back to me with a goofy grin on his face, but it doesn't hide worry that lingers in his eyes. He shrugs and I may not be the most sociably aware person but I know to interpret this gesture as meaning 'I don't know really want to talk about it' and I respect that, Mom always told us that you need to give people their space and they'll tell you eventually. So, I turn back to my pile of plants and while I deliberate putting eucalyptus root in the edible plant or the medicinal pile but just as I'm about to throw it in the medicinal pile I hear a huff of breath escape Carrick; everything about the sound screams exasperation so I put down everything I am holding and turn to him. Just as I realised when to leave Carrick to his own devices, I now recognise that this is the time to listen to what is troubling my usually carefree ally.
"It's Ginna, I'm a bit worried about her." I feel the canvas that is my face becomes painted with an expression of confusion. Carrick and Ginna's relationship to me has seemed amicable at most; they acknowledge one another with a nod of their head but they hardly speak. I tense as I contemplate if he and Ginna are secret allies and Carrick is planning to betray Livvya and I but that thought vanishes almost instantly. If Carrick was planning to turn on me, he wouldn't exactly be ready to open up to me would he? Paranoia is for when we enter the arena, not now. I pat him on the back as I think of how to handle the situation.
"And why exactly would you be worried?" A simple question, remain objective and don't give an opinion: My mother has taught me quite a lot. Shame I've only learnt that now that I have a death sentence dangling above my head; but either way I am thankful. Tact is as good a weapon as a sword in these games, when handling delicate situations inappropriately could get you killed. Carrick shrugs his shoulders, but his trademark grin appears on his face and I grin back at him: Whatever it is cannot be too serious if he is able to maintain his jokey demeanour.
"I just don't get why she allied herself with the little girl from 8; when I proposed an alliance with her she said she was going at it alone. I think it is weird to choose a 12 year old over someone 16 and well more 'able bodied'" I shrug my shoulders, I haven't a clue as to what made Ginna change her mind but I can tell that it is troubling Carrick a little. I take a few moments to consider what to do: Remember I need to be as tactful as possible.
"Why don't you go and ask her about it? Maybe she'd want to join our alliance; you know what they say about the more the merrier." He looks up at me, clearly considering pursuing my idea. I just smile; I mean what is the worst that can happen? The more people in the alliance, the higher our chance of survival. My little idea is starting to sound better and better in my head. Carrick nods his head, a playful grin on his lips; he runs a calloused hand through his closely cropped blonde hair before climbing to his feet. I watch him make his way over and start chatting with his district partner; I turn back to my plants. After a few minutes I glance back over toward the shelter making station and sigh at the sight that awaits me: Carrick and Ginna seem to be engrossed in what I would call a heated discussion; I smack my palm against my forehead. I know I should have gone with him, in a situation like this tact would be extremely helpful and however funny Carrick may be, he isn't what I would call the most tactful person on the planet.
I climb to my feet, making sure to thank the trainer for his help before heading over to the two, I try to remain in the background and assess the situation before deciding whether or not I should interfere. I have the strangest urge to give myself a pat on the back, I've never been the most cautious person but these games have already begun to change me and all I can do is hope they're changing into a man who can win these games. Carrick seems to be getting rather exasperated if his exaggerated gestures are anything to go by, and I decide then it is my time to intervene.
"... Exploiting my maternal nature, Carrick I don't want to be blunt but I don't need to be advised on how to deal with children. I have raised 3 children for the last 2 years and held a household together single handed. I think I know how to deal with Lacey." Ginna, who seems fierce most of the time, now looks as if she is seconds away from ripping Carrick limb from limb; her green eyes narrowed and fists balled at her side so the muscles that line her arms stand out sharply against her taut skin. Despite Carrick being rather muscular, I genuinely fear for his welfare if he continues irking Ginna but self preservation, along with tact, are qualities that seem to elude Carrick.
"Exactly. Your maternal nature; how do you know she isn't playing you like a fool?" Carrick's voice is hushed, but you can hear how much he is trying to stress his point but Ginna just folds her arms and stands his down. I think the term appropriate for now is stalemate, neither side is winning and nobody can make a move or is willing to back down; this is when I should step in. I clear my throat to grab their attention, instantly Ginna glowers and me and Carrick looks at me helplessly, as if I can click my fingers and make everything okay. If only it were that easy, I wouldn't be about here in the Hunger Games; if it were that easy there wouldn't even be the Hunger Games.
"I think I have something that allows you to keep Lacey safe but also reassure Carrick. We could combine alliances; now listen. Us 3 are all able bodied and would be able to protect Liv and Lacey; it'll be like a safety net really. The more of us, the longer we survive; Seeing that the careers are 5, our alliance would be as large as theirs and I doubt they would want to pick a fight." I look for the reactions, Carrick is nodding his head in blatant approval which doesn't surprise me; he wants to go home to his girlfriend, any little factor which would help him win is great in his eyes. Ginna however seems to be reserving judgement; her stony face remains, but if you look closely enough you can see her eyes brighten as if she is thinking. Eventually she just nods her head and I breathe a sigh of relief, Carrick claps his hands before falling to his knees and grasping both of our hands.
"Till death do us part?" I chuckle at the return of his sense of humour, as does Ginna but in her eyes I see something else. A sadness, saddened by the irony of what Carrick has just said. The whole situation is sad, although my determination to win is as resolute as ever it is now marred by a strange sense of melancholy: 23 children will die, a number of them would have bright futures ahead of them if it were not for these sick games: They could be stars so bright they could rival a supernova, all that awaits me is a normal life. Grow up, have kids and die happily at a great age; not the brightest star, but I still shine even if it isn't so obviously bright. Plus I am selfish, I want to win. I snap from my inner ramblings when an explosion racks the training room and the room begins to fill with thick, black smoke and the smell of singed hair. We all turn to where the sound originated: The chemical station.
The boy from 3 seems to have accidentally caused an explosion; everyone is staring as his head of shaggy brown hair emerges from the putrid black smoke; his face a mask of surprise. Covered head to toe in dust, he looks so frail and I feel pity well up inside of me: He'll probably end up blowing himself up. I shake my head at the poor boy from District 3, I will be surprised if he survives the bloodbath. From there chaos ensues: Trainers are rushing to the aid of the trainer at the station who was blown back by the force of the explosion and appears to be struggling to get to his feet, the careers are laughing like a pack of hyenas at the boys apparent misfortune. Everything appears to be a flurry of activity but I notice something, something I think is strange. Something that makes me think that explosion may not have been as accidental as I first thought and everyone else seems to still think. The boy's district partner is huddled in a corner in the far side of the room, engrossed in a deep conversation with none other than Bala of District 4. What is this? The emergence of a new alliance? An exchange of information? I doubt it, from what I've witnessed over the last two days Bala works alone, I have seen her flitting from station to station with what is nothing short of a fierce determination.
Soon after everything dies down and everyone returns to whatever they were doing before, Carrick and Ginna are trying to devise a strategy for when we enter the arena while I am content to sit and watch everyone go about their business. To learn what I can about my future opponents. More specifically Lacey from 8, my newest ally: seemingly harmless. Sweet as Ginna says, but Carrick believes to be manipulative. I find her at the trapping station, she is fiddling with a length of wire as she climbs an artificial tree; from there she creates what I can only call an incredibly elaborate trap, her gentle face screwed up in determination. Lopping the wire within itself and attaching it to an array of branches; she climbs down to drag a dummy over before climbing the tree yet again. She examines the trap for a few moments, looking for any flaws which could sabotage the mechanics; finding no mistakes , she flick a length of the wire. It all happens so quickly, I can only assume that the wire has acted as a garrotte for all I note is that the dummy is now headless. The appendage is rolling across the floor, I am shocked. I thought she would be a helpless 12 year old and admittedly her smile is as sweet as sugar, but she seems a lot deadlier than I with what I now know to be mediocre skills at swordplay.
Lacey will be a great ally, but with her lethally complex traps she also has the potential to be a formidable enemy. Despite her tiny physique, I am well aware that I could have ended up in an alliance with someone much worse. Like the boy from District 7 for example, he is muscular and his physical strength is undeniable plus I've seen him wield an axe so fluidly I'd say he has been using an axe since birth; his potential is unquestionable but he lacks that specific something that separates the fallen from the Victors. That certain brutality, to kill in order to survive: A quality it seems his red headed district partner has in abundance as she throws a trainer across the floor with ease despite her resemblance to a porcelain doll, appearing so petite and fragile. The boy on the other hand looks mortified as he throws his sparring partner to the crash mats; horrified by how he has 'hurt' someone and is currently apologising profusely. One thing I know for certain is that with us lot as tributes; these games will be more interesting than any that preceded them. They say that the cream rises to the top; the question now is who in this room can be classified as the cream?
Aezir Marshton, District 9.
The second day of training seems to be coming to a close, but I'm still unable to ease the agitation that has been nesting within my stomach; at first I thought it was because I was unsure of Fiona's fate. We may not be the closest of friends; in fact I would not say we were even on speaking terms but that doesn't mean I don't care. In fact, I care because not only does nobody deserve to be in the Hunger Games but nobody deserves to face the prospect of death before we even set foot in the arena. But it cannot be that because this morning in the District 9 camp we received the news that Finn was making a full recovery, but the anxiety didn't fade. In fact, it seemed to become worse; the knot in my stomach seemed to tighten even further if such a thing were possible. Despite my indifference and her smarmy attitude, I can't help but be concerned for her; in unfamiliar situations you grasp onto what is familiar and Fiona is familiar. Admittedly, I never knew of Fiona's actual existence until we were reaped but she still comes from home; I associate her with a familiar place and so I am more than concerned about her creating tension and wearing a red dress to a bull fight. Lyle, or whatever his name may be, may not hail from a career district but he is most definitely someone to watch but Fiona decides to make herself a powerful enemy by letting her mouth and fists run away with her.
I shake my head, akin to my concern is also a definite sense of annoyance directed toward my district partner; my thoughts have been burning through my skull like wildfire. I cannot afford to lose focus; I came here to win and having my thoughts dogged by my temperamental counter part is not exactly a way of maintaining focus. I grasp the handle of the sickles, weighing the weapons in my hands; they seem to be feather light and as the light glints along the curved blade I can't help but smile; wielding these blades also bring me that comforting caress of familiarity and as if by magic my mind blanks. All that exists right now is me, the sickles grasped in my calloused hands and the dummy before me: My enemy. I begin slowly, twirling the sickle and slicing the immobile dummy as though I was working the wheat fields back at home. The slashes come quicker and quicker and suddenly the mirage of a wheat field vanishes; standing before me now is the female career from 1, the rhythm builds and the sickle slices through the girl. Her silent scream dies as blood streams from the long wound across her stomach; I begin to jump from foot, skipping around the dummy as I cut through the dummy again and again; the greatest fighters do not stand like a tree, slashing wildly at the enemy before them. The greatest are like bamboo, strong yet pliable: Swaying in the breeze, my body curls in on itself as I dodge an imaginary blow coming from my left. I continue to dance the lethal tango, dodging imaginary blows as my hands wield the weapon with learned efficiency and continues to slice through the humanoid dummy until it is no longer recognisable.
My breath is ragged and I feel myself slumping from the flurry of activity but I feel a sense of overwhelming satisfaction; I have managed to regain the right frame of mind: No longer is my mind cluttered with thoughts of concern and sentimentality regarding myself and my feisty district partner. I have remembered myself, the hard working boy who came here to win no matter what; if blood stains my hands so be it for I will never see myself as a murderer. When killing becomes a necessity to survival, an instinct of self preservation then you can never be called a cold blooded killer: You are a survivor and I will survive. I will be going home; I will be seeing my family again. This is the right frame of mind; this is the frame of mind required of someone capable of surviving the atrocities of the Hunger Games; Do whatever is necessary and head into the games with your focus on one thing: Victory. With my resolution firm in my mind, I go to place the sickles back on the rack of melee weaponry but they clatter toward the ground and the crashing sound seems to echo but no one notices; they are all staring at the elevators or more specifically the two people who just exited.
Fiona and Lyle are standing side by side, pointedly ignoring one another as they enter the training centre. My first reaction is surprise; I thought that both tributes would miss the whole day of training as a punishment for breaking the rules. Fiona is glaring ahead, holding her head high but the tension between the two is palpable: Her jaw is set, arms held firmly at her sides with her hands balled into fists. Lyle's reaction couldn't be more different, a wide smile on his handsome face; a handsome face which I had expected to be scarred from the confrontation but remains flawless. His hands held in his pockets, radiating confidence and seeming totally at ease despite what happened the previous day; but I can see the way his eyes narrow in unadulterated loathing whenever they pass over Finn. What a prick, looking at the arrogant fool makes my muscles tense in anticipation; I think I understand why Fiona flew at him. I haven't spoken to him, but I can practically smell his arrogance from across the room; I can taste his sheer brutality and it makes me want to take the sickles I had been holding in my hands only moments earlier and slicing him like I did the dummy. Finn walks over toward the archery station and I chuckle to myself, returning to the scene of the crime as they say and without any conscious thought I find my feet taking me over to where she is firing arrow after arrow at the target and I'm shocked. She may not be the most accurate archer but she can fire rather quickly and I admire her intelligence when choosing her primary weapon: at least she acknowledges that her disability will restrict her in terms of close combat but her use of ranged weaponry wouldn't be affected by her leg.
"Pretty smart." I feel like slapping myself, I shouldn't have come over in the first place; the last time we had any form of conversation she had slapped me in the face before storming out of the room and leaving a scarlet handprint on my swollen cheek. She just turns and glares and there is no need for words; her glare screams at me to piss off and despite me always thinking I had an acute sense of self control I feel my temper flaring. I understand why she is irked, when we first met I was rude but doesn't she understand? I had just been reaped, practically told I was heading towards a certain death so she should be a little lenient; I wasn't in the mood for being sociable. So instead of going along with what she wants and going away I remain where I am standing and watch as she shoots arrow after arrow at the target; every time she sends the arrow flying through the air she lets out a huff of annoyance or a sigh of exasperation. I just keep my expression blank when she turns to face me with her hands placed firmly on her hips, I know I could easily overpower her like Lyle had but I take a step backwards; an angered and potentially hormonal woman is someone you would tend to avoid.
"What do you want?" A simple question, but I have no answer. What do I want? An alliance? It would be beneficial to have an ally with an affinity for ranged combat seeing as I specialise in close combat; but on the other hand she would slow me down and proposing an alliance also poses the risk of becoming attached to the fiery girl from home. She just sighs and folds her arms tightly against her chest, clearly expecting an answer and that is what she gets. Once again without conscious thought my body acts on its own and the words tumble from my lips.
"I don't know." She looks stumped, and I share her confusion. Why on Earth did I come here in the first place? She just stares at me blank faced and I know my expression is just as vague; I silently berate myself for putting myself in this position, now my thoughts are once again going to be consumed with my smarmy district partner. I had just managed to put myself in the right frame of mind to become a serious contender in these games: focussed with my eyes on the prize and now, yet again, I find myself drowning in these unfamiliar waters. These feelings of uncertainty threaten to become my undoing and I can't have that. Fiona's face is screwed up in concentration, as if she is unable to understand something and then her face softens and she stares at me; her bluish-green eyes collide with my own murky brown and she frowns. If I were to ascribe one word to her current facial expression it would be torn.
"I think you had better go, we can talk about this later maybe." She is wringing her hands and turns away from me but I notice she makes no move to reach for the bow; I hear her taking deep breathes and I take that as my cue to leave and even though she can't see me I shrug my shoulders trying to appear casual. As I walk away, I realise that I am more confused than ever; at least before I knew our relationship was based on indifference, potentially contempt but now I have no idea where I stand and I cannot help but think that getting involved in such drama will not end well for anybody. I'm content to head over to the melee combat station, my hands yearning to feel the familiar roughness of the handle of a sickle but I am distracted, although a better summary would be shocked stupid. Lyle is standing surrounded by the careers, laughing along with their jokes which are probably at the expense of everybody else. Fear and anger hit me simultaneously, I am angry that they would accept someone so undisciplined within the career alliance; effectively giving him a chance to live that few days longer but I am scared but not for myself, for Finn. She is so stubborn and adamant that she can do this alone; but she can't and I can't help her, I haven't an idea how I am to withstand this alone never mind if I start worrying about her. Not only will she be contending with her newly christened nemesis, she will be going toe to toe with the whole career alliance and that thought sends a stab of complete dread through my chest.
Ruby Ashford, District 1.
Today was rather mundane, I am tired of these training shenanigans. Decimating dummies can only satisfy my insatiable thirst for so long, the consequences have been that I have been have to sate this thirst in other ways and well Platinum seems to have become trapped in a constant state of physical exhaustion thanks to my rapidly growing sex drive; he is snoring quietly as I lay my head against his muscular chest. I trail my fingers delicately along his abdomen, trailing my hand against the waistband of his criminally tight boxers and let me just say that a certain part of his body reacts as expected; A sly grin forms on my face, it is very nice to know that I haven't lost my magic touch: However crude it may sound, that magic touch could be a very useful asset in the arena. I slide from under Platinum's arm and observe myself in the full length mirror; the curve of my full breasts, narrow waist and my long toned legs seem to glow in my current state of 'Post coital bliss'. Another weapon in my exorbiantly large arsenal, this body will not only draw sponsors like bees to honey but also help when 'convincing' or 'distracting' other tributes.
I may have become frustrated with this whole charade of 'training', I have managed to use my time accordingly and in such a way that will best benefit me when the timer hits 0 and the real fun begins: I've highlighted targets, namely the loudmouth red head from 7 who has somehow deluded herself in to thinking that on some levels she is almost my equal; I've managed to secure a strong alliance within the careers even if to me we appear as possibly the most dysfunctional group of careers to ever grace the Hunger Games; honestly being around these pathetic excuses for careers has been the sole downfall to entering the games: Being surrounded by idiots. Another part of my master plan was also ensuring that the attractive yet moronic Kai is leading the freak show. What entertains me the most is that he truly believes I'm unyieldingly loyal and that 'we're in it together' and that I will simply comply with everything says; the boy has some strange tendency to think everyone else accepts his superiority complex because he is able to throw a spear or because he looks like a lost God of the sea with his tanned skin, rippling muscles and Adonis good lucks.
Please, if it were beauty that won these games I'd have been crowned Victor as soon as I volunteered: It is about so much more, being deceptive and cunning for example. I classify Kai as my greatest competitionKai may be as bloodthirsty as myself and seems to be missing the part of his brain regarding emotions but he is about as subtle and cunning as Nicoli allowed free reign in one of the Capitol's shopping malls with unlimited funds; Kai's greatest weakness is the fact that he is nothing but a raging ball of testosterone. He is naive enough to think that these games are only physical well they're not but this suits me just fine because all it means is that I can continue to play him like a violin until it's time to put a knife in his back.
Another positive to be found amongst the negative aspects of the training period, namely immense boredom and having to constantly be around those from the outlying districts, I got a new toy to play with in the games. Pure genius on my behalfm you see:With my natural beauty and enticing demeanour, things have always come easily to me. I ask for things and I seem to get them, my persistence and fine tuned skills regarding 'persuasion' have ensured that since I hit puberty and blossomed into such a beautiful young woman that I have always got what I wanted. No matter what, no exemptions and no discussions but this was as easy as taking candy from a baby; but somehow this little plot of mine has been even easier. Easy as breathing. Lyle Carrington, beautiful and seemingly skilled from what I saw yesterday although I think his strongest weapon is simply brute strength, he lacks training and technical precision; in a way he is like me: We are both beautiful with stupidly large egos but what makes me oh so much better is that I seem to possess a brain. All it took was me to waltz over to him and bat my eyelids and he was under my spell, entranced by my very presence and now he is primed and ready to cater to my every whim; a glamorised puppet whereas I am the stunning and somehow even more glamorous puppet master. And when my toy puppet no longer has a purpose, or I get a little bored whichever comes first, then I will simply cut the strings and watch my puppet fall like the 22 others who must for me to win. I feel a smile tugging at the corner of my lips; As 'Nikki' would say: Oh guys, isn't this going to be so much fun?
WARNING: Stupidly long author's note! (Super Sorry ;))
NEXT CHAPTER: Chatting/Gamemaker Sessions and the reactions to the scores...
I want you all to REVIEW, whether or not you have a tribute in the games and let me know who you think deserves to be in the bloodbath: Be BRUTAL, if there is a character you feel I do not write well; a character who you don't think is developed enough; a character who is plain annoying? I've written the bloodbath, and it isn't likely it will change but I could be swayed ;) In other words, I am second guessing myself yet again and would love to know who you think should die... but no promises!
Oh, and are there any little smack downs you'd like to see within the arena?
Haha, so what did we all think of the 'Super Alliance' of 10, 12 and little Lacey? (Lacey seems pretty good with those traps doesn't she?)... Bala/Greer, what was all that about?
We see the return of Finn and Lyle: But where has Aezir's compassion come from? Does anyone see any of this ending well...?
Now, for the sequel I have a few spots left open: D2 Male, D1 Male, D8 Male, D10 Female, D10 Male, D11 Male, D11 Female and the D12 Male...What is it with peoples aversion to creating male tributes? :S
But here is a little spoiler for some of the tributes for the sequel whom you'll be meeting throughout the story:
Corrine Roarke (17), District 5. (amo-scribere): For 15 years she has lived the life of the 'Good Girl', the sweet and unyieldingly obedient daughter to a set of successful parents. For a long time this was all she knew, it was the role she was eternally cast in; but as of late, things have taken a dramatic turn. The good girl of District 5 has been walking on the wild side of life, and she's been enjoying but it hasn't been without repercussions. Life changing repercussions. How bad will this good girl gone bad go to ensure she escapes the arena with her life intact? And what could these repercussions possibly be?
Artemis 'Luna' Pfeiffer (16) District 2, (Emeraldpaw): Oh, this is a girl with some serious sister issues; known by her friends as Luna, she volunteers to step out from her seemingly perfect older sister's shadow. To show her negligent parents, her fickle ex boyfriend, golden girl sister and the whole population of District 2 that she is without question the most deserving of attention. To let them know she is the strongest, smartest and most fierce of the Pfeiffer sisters. This career has a big point to prove, but will she succeed and become the new Golden Girl of her home district or fail, and die as the forgotten Pfeiffer sister?
Cordin Fuze (18) District 3, (Vividly Cloudy Dreams): District 3 is known for churning out the most intelligent tributes and Cordin doesn't disappoint. He was the boy wonder, a genius prodigy whose IQ is so high it would put the likes of Albert Einstein and Stephen Hawking to shame. So smart in fact that he realised that one day the odds may not be in his favour and he could be dragged into the Hunger Games; so intelligent he saw it prudent to prepare himself. By day he excelled in the world of academia, by night he became proficient in combative skills. What happens when a tribute brings brawn and brains to the table, or more aptly: The arena?
Nicholas Niles (15) District 9(nb1998): This young man has two sides to him: On one hand he is the socially and physically awkward young man with a genuinely sweet and approachable demeanour. But sometimes, you can't always be the 'nice one': Something dear Nicholas knows all too well. At the drop of a hat things can change, he can become a cunning boy, exploiting peoples trust: Thieving from his own friends, and lying through his teeth while wearing his trademark smile. Appearances can be deceiving, will Nicholas be able to deceive the fellow tributes long enough to come out on top? Can he lie his way out of a precarious situation? Only time will tell...
What do you think of these 4, they along with the remainder of tributes WILL feature in this story! Do you think I should post these little character descriptions on my profile?
Would you like to see some character descriptions every chapter until we have met them all? Oh and if you submitted a tribute, would you like to write the description or should I do it?