List so far. Please, guys, if you have any characters, then it would be awesome if you could submit! I'll copy-paste the form to my profile to make it easier for you guys, if you wanna check there. :) Also, tell me how often you want me to update! I won't do it every day, obviously, but something frequent but not too often will be good.
District One Female:
District One Male: Mark Seashire (DeadlyHuggles)
District Two Female: (taken, character in progress)
District Two Male: (taken, character in progress)
District Three Female:
District Three Male: Tyler Kaufman (GalaxyPika)
District Four Female: Azurine (Zuri) Bahari (jul312)
District Four Male:
District Five Female: Twyla Zahavyin (Author196)
District Five Male: Mica Mendel (jul312)
District Six Female:
District Six Male: Cameron Bordeaux (kealimepie)
District Seven Female:
District Seven Male: Spruce Ashmark (Muddyboots)
District Eight Female: Lace Riverworth (Muddyboots)
District Eight Male:
District Nine Female: Zahava Doita (Author196)
District Nine Male:
District Ten Female:
District Ten Male:
District Eleven Female: Elisabeth Bronzebrook (DeadlyHuggles)
District Eleven Male: Amil Everret (BabyRue11)
District Twelve Female:
District Twelve Male: Jackson (Jax) Winters (AtruxDragneel)
Amil Everret (D11 Male)
I was not one to quit, especially not now, when my family was on the brink of starvation. What could I do that was most helpful? Get food, obviously. So, on the day of the Reaping, I walked outside, where there was sure to be people lingering outside since it was a holiday.
The air was filled with the scents from crops, acres and acres of crops out there where the District Eleven people made a living. If one were to go on a vacation here, they would find it rather irritating, but as I had grown up in this place for all his life, I had gotten used to it.
I let a charming, relaxed smile spread across my face as I headed around town with not much of a destination in mind, hands tucked in pockets. There were people begging for food out on the streets, thin and scrawny, but I was not one of them. I, Amil Everret, would not beg for food. I would get it myself.
My smile grew even wider when I spotted a girl from the same crop I worked on every day. She was not pretty, kind of like average, with soft, delicate features and heavily tanned skin. Her hair was stringy as yarn, the color of straw, tied into two pigtails. A couple freckles covered her face, making her look unbelievably sweet.
"Hello," I greeted her casually, working like a well-oiled clock. I would persuade a few coins from her, then work my way to the next, um, victim.
"Hi," she said nervously, her hands twitching like spiders. I suspected she had a crush on me like every other girl in District Eleven. Too bad she wasn't the type I liked, though, I thought wryly as she made her way towards me.
"So?" I said as if it were obvious. "How are you?"
She bit her lower lip. "I'm fine. You yourself?" It was a small attempt to try to fit in with me, be noticeable, but it definitely didn't work.
I smirked. "Perfect, actually." I allowed one of my signature grins to replace the lazy smile, hoping she'd have more of a reaction. Because this boring shell was exactly I needed right now.
"So," she started, wringing her hands.
"So," I repeated. "Have ya got any money on you?" I winked. "Spare coins?"
She brought a hand to her mouth, muffling the indecision. I knew then that she was torn. She wanted to give money to me, help me- of course, anybody would. But it would economically harm her own family, too. I let her think for a minute, smiling around my teeth.
The girl nodded, mumbling, "Sureeee," and reached into her pocket for a drawstring bag that looked really nice. It looked to be made of actual leather, with a couple beads on the braided string. She pulled it open and handed me a couple of the coins inside.
"My earnings this week," she said with a quick beam, as if wanting to see me glow. I fulfilled that perfectly, staring straight into her dull brown eyes. She flushed a hot pink that was kind of sweet, with her freckles and pigtails in the mix.
"Thanks a bunch," I answered silkily, examining the coins. Ooh, nice, she'd given me one that was worth a whole ragged blanket. I would have to get one of those for my dad. Maybe it would make him less grumpy and boring.
Her cheeks were still red as she replied, "No problem," very quickly. She was just about to put away her bag when I pointed at it. She raised her eyebrows, startled.
"Where'd you get that at?" I asked charmingly, dashing another smile at her. Hopefully she found me distracting. I mean, with my spiky black hair and glimmering brown eyes, who thought anything different? At least, I hoped so.
"The bag?" she asked unnecessarily. I nodded. "Oh, from a friend some years ago."
"Oh. Cool." I grabbed her hand, and she cringed away from me, blushing harder. I smiled patiently and purred, "So, can I see your bag?"
"Um.." She bit her lip. "Okay!" With a slight hesitation, she passed it over to me. I gazed over it, liking it a lot and wondering at the same time how I could bribe her out of it. She obviously cherished it very much.
"Hey, could I- er- ask if I could have one? I just love it, you see, and my family..." Forming a plan quickly in my head, I set it into motion. I let my lower lip twitch, as if I were about to cry, and her eyes widened, not really knowing what to do.
"Oh, you don't have to say. I, um, see you need it a lot more than I do," she stated breathlessly, pushing the bag into my hands. "Please- don't cry." I pretended to sniffle, feeling triumphant and evil all at the same time, playing with her emotions like this, but it was necessary. To survive.
"Okay," I said quietly, already eager to show my parents my new bag and coins. I would buy them something to eat, and it would all be worth it, in the end. Besides, she was part of the slightly richer community within Eleven, yet not as good as the merchant class. She surely didn't need the money as much as I did.
She reached out tentatively and gripped my hand, in a show of comfort. Though I didn't need it, I accepted her kindness with a smile that showed all my teeth. Because my plan had worked. My family had survived another day of living in the harsh qualities of Panem.
She opened her mouth to say something, but then decided against it at the last minute and let me leave. I saw a girl with dark hair and brilliant hazel eyes: "Hey, Cornflower." She smiled at me and continued along her way.
I greeted a couple more people as I made my way through town, to the place that sold grains. We could make it into bread at home. The best place was a bakery that Pepper and his family owned, in which they had all sorts of grains and bread.
The store was not much cooler than outside, especially considering the fact that it was summer and horribly hot here in Eleven. Pepper was working as always, helping to re-shelf paper sacks filled with grains in their correct storage units.
"Hey, Pepper," I said as I closed the door behind me.
Pepper whirled around, then relaxed when he saw it was just me. "Oh, hi. Normally people would be inside, or chilling, since, you know, Reaping's coming up, but, how may I help you?" Pepper was a boy who often stuttered, especially when he was at his work or around strangers. It often interrupted his speech.
"Yeah, well, I'd like some grains," I responded smoothly. "Cheapest kind, please." I handed him a couple coins and he took them, taking down a bag from the top shelf and giving it to me.
"Here," he said simply. "Uh, thanks." I accepted my change with another grin(I mean, they came naturally to me, so why not use them?), then headed my way home.
When I got home, they were all preparing for the Reaping. My mother was in a gold dress that complimented her honey-toned skin, and my dad in a dark gray suit, complete with tie. I greeted them, grinning, and asked, "So, what's my outfit gonna be, seeing as you're all dressed up?"
My father said impassively, "Everything's in your room," while my mother paced nervously, seeming to be worked up by the fact that it was another year of the Reaping. Then again, it was the last year. I was eighteen now and there was the most chance that I would be chosen, but if it passed as it should, everything would be fine.
Fine for the rest of my life, because I was off the hook.
I changed into my father's old suit that he lent to me, though honestly, it was reeking with some unknown smell, and I wished he had washed it earlier. Oh well. I skipped my way downstairs, eager to get it over with.
"Come on," my father said gruffly, and we all went on our way, me going slightly ahead of them because my friends would surely be there before me. Although, technically, everyone working in my crop and around my age were considered my friend, since I was most certainly on their good side.
I greeted my friends with a certain charm added to every word. The District Eleven escort, a man named Maximus Rodgers. Curly black hair that was dyed a sickening yellow, glittering black eyes like little jewels set into his head. He had a pale, glittering, vampire-like complexion.
The Reaping started normally. They showed the video they showed every year, the same speeches, all that. Our previous victor sat on a chair with the mayor.
Then, Maximus began to draw out names. "As always, we will start with our female tribute," he said curtly, pulling on a pair of white gloves and digging his hand into the heaps of paper slips. So many to choose from..he was literally determining somebody's death, right then and there. I wondered if he knew that.
He plucked one out of the pile and read out, "And the female tribute for this year is Rosie Bronzebrook."
A girl, definitely around twelve years old, made her way up to the stage, tears forming around her eyes, though she didn't let them fall. She was very pale, with light blonde hair and a little over average height. She stood alone on the stage, shaking uncontrollably. I felt a twinge of pity for her despite myself.
"Any volunteers?" Maximus asked. "Okay th—"
"I volunteer as tribute!" a girl yelled instantly. She was a mirror image of her sister, but much taller, and she ran up to the stage, hugging the girl called Rosie. The whole crowd was craning to see the stage and the rare volunteer.
Maximus looked pleased. "Alright, then, what is your name, and how old are you?" The cameras were repeatedly snapping pictures in the background silence.
"My name is Elizabeth Bronzebrook and I am fourteen years old!" she declared. Wow. Some enthusiasm she had there.
Maximus nodded and, after a few murmured words from sister to sister, sent Rosie back to the crowd. I tensed as I realized it was the time for the selection of the male tributes. I could see all my friends doing the same.
Maximus reached into the bowl and, quick as lightning, stated, "The male tribute for this year's Hunger Games is Amil Everret."
Amil Everret? My mind went blank. Who was that again? Oh, right, that was me. Me, Amil Everret, the one who made girls swoon and made boys jealous. Who had a ton of friends because everyone wanted to be near his awesome presence.
Yeah, that awesome presence might've been me.
I cursed aloud upon realization, then began the walk to the stage. The Death Walk. I tried not to let my sadness show on my face, attempting a charming smile that came naturally. Not now. I probably looked pathetic now. I hoped the cameras weren't recording me.
I could hear gasps rippling throughout the crowd: a lot of girls and some boys, all going visibly upset. I tried not to think too much about how this was my last day in District Eleven.
"The tributes of District Eleven! Shake hands," ordered Maximus. I grabbed the other girl's hand and shook it; it was ice-cold, glistening with sweat. I was the same.
Elizabeth Bronzebrook (D11 Female)
After the Reaping, we were instructed to go into the building opposite the Square to say goodbye and all that. I was still shaking from what I had done, even as I was seated on the plush velvet couch, the most expensive thing I'd ever seen.
Would ever see.
I expected Rosie to come, and she did, tears making streaks down her pale face. I hugged her tightly and we just stayed like that for most of the time, sobbing into each other. "I'm so, so sorry, Elizabeth," Rosie murmured. "I shouldn't have let you volunteer."
"Don't worry," I said softly. "If you had gone to the Reaping, mother would've killed me."
Rosie sniffled, "No, I was supposed to go." She looked directly into my eyes. "You saved my life."
"Yeah, I guess I did." I looked down to my tightly intertwined fingers sitting on my lap, and felt a wave of sorrow. I would die. I would die and probably be killed by someone, and that's the worst kind of death there is, the most painful...
I had a vision where I just committed suicide, right then and there.
But I had to give Rosie hope. I had to look like I was fighting. There was the slimmest chance I could win. A slim chance, but I would try my hardest.
"Promise you'll win? Promise you'll come back home?" Rosie pleaded, squeezing my hand.
I smiled ruefully. "Come back home to mother being bathed in jewelry and all that when she deserved nothing? I think not."
Rosie's gaze hardened. "You have to, Elizabeth, c'mon! You have to promise."
"I promise," I said, but my voice seemed lost. I didn't actually mean the promise, did I?
Yes, I did. I had to win, for Rosie. She was too young to experience this kind of death and bloodshed. I had volunteered for her so that we had a greater chance of winning.
And I would succeed.
My next visitor was my friend, Avery, who embraced me and sobbed a faint goodbye into my shoulder. I cherished the moment with my friend as well, knowing very well that it could be the last time I ever saw them again. They were the only visitors I had, anyway, before the train ride.
Avery then reached into her pocket and gave me something, slipping it into the palm of my hand. "Here, Elizabeth. Keep it. For the arena." I looked down at the little pendent and felt like crying all over again. It was in the shape of an owl, Rosie's favorite animal, and I could almost see my sister's fierce, determined eyes in the winged creature.
"Thank you," I whispered numbly. "For everything."
A/N: Sorry if I didn't get Amil's POV just right, it was hard for me to adjust to his charming personality. xP
7/16/17