User blog:Sparrow Hazelthorn/The 37th Hunger Games

As a semi-expirienced game-maker, I want to start another Games! I hope you all liked my last one, and if you haven't read it, please do. If you want to submit tributes, here are your guide-lines. If you don't have all of the guide-lines (If you are the person who likes to make pre-made tributes), then just send me a message with the rest of the info:

REQUIREMENTS:

Name

Age

Gender

District

Skills

Weaknesses

Personality

Strategy

History

Family and Friends (Doesn't have to be overly descriptive)

Appearance

Interview Quote (Not sure whether I'll do interviews this time around)

Token

Reaped/Volunteer?

Notes (If needed)

PLEASE DO NOT SUBMIT TRIBUTES YOU ENTERED LAST TIME!

I'll make Lunaii's if you don't. It'll be the same as last time with the POV's. (If any tributes have a pet, I can do the whole Fluffums scheme again....)

I will post almost every day, although maybe not as much as I did in the 36th - One or two POV's a day, at the least?

The Reapings:
District one, Chandelier Fronum:

The first thing my fuddled brain can recognize is thunder. Relentless, booming thunder. My eyes wearily flutter open and I automatically let out a groan. A thunder storm on Reaping day. Not good at all. I feel a soft, radiating warmth seeping down my back. My little brother is sleeping next to me. I smile and ruffle his hair. Someday he'll start training, and he'll be strong and brave. My little brother. I slowly creep to the window and look out of the slightly cracked glass. Rain spatters on the pane, a hollow, thumping sound. I sleepily yawn, I am so tired. A bend down to stretch away all the sleepiness. Ahh. Much better. A booming thunder clap startles me, breaking through the sky, splitting it down the middle. I whip my head around to my little sibling. No, the thunder didn't wake him up. Good. I rub my eyes as I feel through my wardrobe for a reaping outfit. My blind hands settle on a cotton dress. I pull it out and examine. It looks fine. And relatively waterproof. Hmph. It's going to have to be VERY water resistant to even survive this weather. As I make my way to the bathroom to change, my fingers flit about, nervously. Reapings. Reapings... I automatically think of my brothers. I hope they won't volunteer when they're old enough. They had better not. Or I swear I'll... never mind.

District one, Canopy Starsos:

My mother holds my brother's hand as we walk to the circle. My father holds my other brother's. Both boys are deaf. Sometimes I wish I were deaf, too, to block out all of the comments I get about my parent's charity work. It's embarrassing to be complimented for your parent's deeds. It feels awkward. Unfortuanately, I'm the lucky one who hears things. The birds, the honks of automobiles, the thunder this morning. I know that it's good to hear, but I'd rather not be humiliated. Wishful thinking, huh?

The day is quite dreary, yet all the citizens in the square are happy. Hey, it's the hunger games! Yay! Yeah, right. I try to keep up with the fast-speaking escort as I signal to my brothers, who watch my hands intently. My fingers flit around like birds. I wonder what it would be like if hands were your only connection to the outside world. "And the boy tribute is..." I sign out. I never finish signing, though. Because the name is my name. Canopy Starsos. And the girl: Oh, the girl! Only my life-long crush. I think I'd rather be deaf than be stuck in this situation. Oh, yes, I'd way rather be deaf.

District two, Fall Manell:

My mother harshly yanks on my hand, willing me to go onward. "Come on, Fall!" Her tone is so... mean. "I-I'm trying" I start. Then, I cough, racking my body from head to toes. My mother gives me a stern look and says, "Now, try not to cough. You'll cough up a lung or something." I almost flinch at her harsh, unforgiving words. She is obviously trying not to show her real emotions. When we approach the square, I get another coughing fit. A cold glare from my mother silences me but leaves an itchy spot in my throat. I look downwards to avoid my mother's eyes. I keep them downcast throughout the speeches and entrances. When they call the girl name, I finally look up. And I know the girl's name. It's my own, "Fall Manell." I wrench my hand loose of my mom's and hobble onstage. Everyone murmurs, not happy about my sickness. "Any volunteers?" twitters the escort. The silence is ear-splitting. Finally, a pain filled voice starts, "I volunteer!" I sigh relief and run back to my mother as I watch the girl go onstage. She may be as young as me. I feel pressure behind my eyes as a wave of gratitude washes over me. This girl is saving my life and risking her own. Her sacrifice deserves winning. She needs to win.

District 3, Lucky Dawn:

Let me just tell you - WORST DAY EVER. And it's only 8:24 in the morning. Since waking up a couple of minutes ago, I have been hit in the head, tripped over my own blankets, and totally messed up my hair. Oh wait, one more thing - it's Reaping day. Aw, man! Well, here I am, at 8:24 in the morning, rushing to get ready for the 9:00 Reapings. Wear this, eat that, brush this, do that. Everything is a blur this morning, huh? At the reasonable time of 8:51, I leave the house. Not too shabby, huh?

Well, the day gets worse. 9:00, I'm at the District square. Saying "Hi," doing friendly stuff. You know. So, escort comes in at 9:05. Escort draws girl's name at 9:12. Girl's name is... WHAT THE-? Really??? The day gets EVEN WORSE. Lucky Dawn. Hmph. Aren't I lucky? No. I storm up on stage. I'm going to do something stupid.... then it hits me. I greet the escort. "Hi!" I say cheerfully. Surprised, she says, "Uhm, hello!" I open my mouth to say something else when BAM! I snatch the wig off her head. She shrieks, and puts her hand out for me to deposit the wig in. Her real blonde hair is falling out of the pins she has it in. I clutch the turquoise wig to my chest and shake my head with a cocky smile. She stomps her foot and screeches. The mayor takes my shoulder and says, "Lucky. Give it back."Then he sighs. Drama queen. I hand over the wig. The Capitol people will either love me or be appalled by me. Either or, I'm happy. The escort puts her wig on, cheeks burning bright red. I giggle and snarkily smile. The escort just glares. I'm still smiling when the boy tribute is called. Digit Starr...? Have I heard that name somewhere? Yes! My parents work for his parents! My token that I'm using is a badge from his factory! Digit Starr? Really? Oh, this is cool! Me and my parent's employer's child - oh, it is on. In a "friendly" way, no doubt. No doubt at all.

District 4, Jen Dean (from my last games):

Can a dead girl hurt? Hurt for her family, hurt for her friends, hurt for the new girl tribute? The girl tribute that she, if she had played it smart, would be training right now? Maybe dead girls can hurt. I know I do. The district is exactly how it was a year ago, when I left it for the last time. I wonder if dead girls can speak. If we can, maybe I can act as a guardian angel to this new tribute. Although, if you ask me, I was no angel. I could tell her things, give her advice. But that I know of, dead girls can't speak. We are silenced by the stitches of death. Strung up slowly, for those like me, or quickly, for those with a quicker death last year. Either way, the stitches hurt. Hurt like my own death, relived. My dull, aching pain is quickly replaced by anticipation. Will the new girl be strong and tough, or a weakling? I must know.

Eventually, I do learn. Katerina Trissoak. She seems okay. More than okay. Better than me. She had a hard look of determination on her face from moment one. And the boy, oh, the boy. Hugo Bay. Poor kid. What could he do? His friend, unable to walk without aid due to injury, was reaped. Was he supposed to sit there and watch his friend die? No. So he did the brave thing, for a thirteen year old boy. He volunteered. When he did, I heard one girl start to cry out, but she stopped herself. Then, she raced out of the square, tears streaming down her face, hand over gaping mouth, gasping for air. This is D4 for this year. A determined girl and a heartbreaking boy. Why can't we just have normal careers for once?

District 5, Little girl:

Why is everyone so sad? I don't get it! I'm not sad. So why's everyone else? I don't know. Everyone is so big, and scary. Really, really big! And really, really scary! I hide behind mommy's leg. She'll protect me from all the people. Won't she? She will. It's so noisy and loud. Everybody's all cramped up together. I don't like it! I get kind of pushed from behind and my red hair flies all over my face. I turn around, separating myself from mommy's leg. Who pushed me? That was mean! It's some big person. He's scary, even if he's not looking at me. I don't like him... and he's scary! I feel tears. I need to get mommy! I start to cry. Mommy bends down and picks me up. "There, there." She coos. But I STILL don't like the people! I bury my face in mommy's shoulder, so I don't have to see all the people. "What happened?" She asks. "I-I got pushed!" I blubber. I think talking is hard. I don't like to talk. Mommy just smiles at me. Why does she smile at me? I push my face back into her. Time passes. I'm getting bored. I think I'll just take a nap...

Huh? Wha's that? Oh, I'm at home. Yay! No more scary people! I'm still in mommy's lap. I'm not sleepy anymore. I wanna play! I tug at mommy's pant sleeve. "Mommy, mommy! I wanna play!!!" I whine. She slowly looks down. Her face is all red and streaky! "Not today, dear." She chokes out. This makes me upset. Mommy HAS to play with me! "Why mommy? Why?" She coughs a bit and says, "Because of The Hunger Games. That's why."

District 6, Unknown:

Little did she know. Little did she know that she would be reaped. That she was standing next to someone who knew her. Or at least, used to. She didn't know. To her, she was only Alice. Nothing else. Just Alice. The person she was standing next to, who she used to know, but didn't anymore, recognized her. That was Alice Redfield! Why didn't she say hello? The person knew why. Alice didn't. So here was Alice, Just Alice, alone in a crowded area. This was apparently a Reaping. Alice doesn't know. She doesn't know what a reaping is, what the hunger games are, anything. Just her name, and what is happening now. Alice likes that word. Now. A word that means almost nothing, because by the time "now" happens, it will be the past. Which Alice doesn't remember. Alice has always hated what she doesn't know. That's why she hates the past. Little does Alice know that in those glass balls, her name is in there, itching to be picked...

Little does he know. Little does he know that his little brother is no longer safe. One strip. What's the harm? Little does he know that his brother will be picked. That he will be faced with the choice of his or his brother's life. Little does he know that he will choose to risk his life. Little does he know that the girl he will be contesting with and against, his worst enemy, will be his best friend in the weeks to come. Alice Redfield. Slightly unhinged, crazy, mad, hostile, mysterious. Alice. Little does he know that within minutes, two words will leave his mouth, two words that are his death omen.

"I volunteer"

District 7, Mayor:

"Mayne?" I call into the Justice Building. Where is our escort? "Mayne?!?!" I call with increasing urgency and annoyance. I swear, if she is adjusting her makeup, I'll - "Yes, Mayor?" I hear a cool voice say. I sigh. Typical Mayne, trying to impress all the time. "Get onstage, you buffoon!" I howl. Her slick smile falls and is replaced by pursed lips and shocked eyes. "Well, you are a buffoon" I say under my breath. I hear the clatter of her insanely high stilettos and her chirpy voice. I wipe the layer of sweat off of my forehead a clutch my papers closer to me. As soon as I hear her voice come to a halt, I walk out of the wide arch of the Justice Building to my chair. I look down the row of chairs, all nine. Escort, Mayor, and seven victors. We're up there, victor-wise, beaten only by the career districts. Ugh. Careers. The bossy, mean killers of the games. When Mayne sits down, I slowly walk to the podium and begin the Treaty of Treason. Gosh, how much I hate doing this. It's pretty much a contract saying, "We kill your kids, you're okay with it, and we squish you to bits if anything goes wrong. I stutter a bit at one point, but no one seems to notice. After that is done, I give up the stage to Mayne once again. Her verve fills the emptiness of the platform. I sigh and close my eyes, waiting for the kids to come up. I hate the Hunger Games. Sometimes, I know the kids. Those years really suck. Suddenly, I hear a groan of dissent rise from the crowd. A young girl is on stage. Very young. She seems unaffected by the crowd and seems happy to be there. Hmm. The crowd silences itself when Mayne picks the boy. A young man by the name of Stronton Melich. He suits his name, well built and ready for battle. For once, maybe once, I am happy with Seven's tributes. Both of them.

District 8, Haley Hood:

I need Dakota! The man is here again! He's here! HE'S HERE! "DAKOTAAAA!" I screech. I don't want him to get near me! "DAKOTAAAAA!" I hear her coming down the stairs and know I am safe. I rush to her and cower behind her. She scans the room. Why doesn't she see the man? "Haley, what's wrong?" She asks. What's wrong? What's wrong?!?! There's the man here! He's back again! "He-he's here!" I splutter. "Who?" Dakota questions. I can sense her growing urgency and annoyance. "The man!" I cry out. Dakota kisses my forehead. "There is no man, Haley. No man here." But there is. He is here. "Why can't you see him?!" I scream. Dakota takes my arm and drags me into the kitchen. "Haley. There is no man there. You are imagining things. Please, Haley, ignore him. He's no harm to you." This makes no sense. "How do you know he won't hurt me when you aren't looking?" I whimper. She just wraps her arms around me and closes her eyes. Well, if Dakota thinks I'm safe, than I am.

I hate the Reapings. I hate them. So many people. So many. They scare me. But Dakota is here to protect me. And Alex, too. He's here. I stand with my siblings, waiting for the Reapings to begin. Suddenly, I see him. THE MAN! "DAKOTAAAAAAAA!" I shriek. She whips around and starts yell-whispering at me. "Haley! There is NO man here. No man. So, if you see him, ignore him, He won't hurt you." I am shocked at her harshness. "Ohkay." I whisper. But that doesn't change the fact that he's there. He's still here. I spend the rest of my time ignoring him, like Dakota says. Then, I hear my name being called. What? "No!" Dakota chokes out. What? "I VOLUNTEER!" Dakota yells. Oh no. My baby sister has been Reaped! This is the man's fault! It's HIS fault! I start to cry. Dakota, Dakota, Dakotaaa..... And then, I see Alex leaving too, his face pale. Alex? ALEX? No! NO! This can't be happening! All I see before I pass out is the man, silently watching me.

District 9, Kakure Satsuki:

I have never liked games. Never. Even in the school yard, when boys invited me to play soccer or other little games, I always refused. I hate games. There is only one game I want to play - The Hunger Games. I wish I were born in a career district, so my family would honor my training the way their families do. My parents are scared of me. I told them I wanted to play in the Games, and my mother fainted. They are weaklings. But I am not. So I am volunteering.

I have never liked games. So at the Reaping, standing in my roped off section, a boy comes up to me, and says, "Man, I'm really nervous." I ignore him. "What are you going to do if you get reaped?" He asks absent-mindedly. I whip around and grab his throat. He gasps, choking for air. "I won't be reaped." I calmly say. "I'll be volunteering." Then, I release him and laugh as he makes a bee-line for the opposite end of our area. I watch as the escort comes out. I chant in my head, ''I volunteer, I volunteer, I volunteer. The mayor says The treaty of Treason. I volunteer, I volunteer, I volunteer. They are choosing the girl. I volunteer, I volunteer. ''I think I know her. Seen her somewhere. ''I volunteer. ''Finally, they pick the boy. Kakure Satsuki. My name. I won't have to volunteer. As I walk stiffly on stage, I see the boy I choked. He nervously gulps. The girl and I are herded into the Justice Building, and I allow myself to ask the question that I have banished from my mind until now. ''What if I don't win? ''But I will. Right? Right. I'm not so sure anymore... why did I ever like The Hunger Games? Why did I ever want to volunteer when there is so much uncertainty in my survival rate? I have never liked games. Not even The Hunger Games.

District 10, Athena Esson:

"Rosebeam! Hellooooo! Rosebeam!" I call out to my best friend. She doesn't hear me. "ROSEBEAM!" I shriek. I swear, half the district looks over. Still, at least Rosebeam heard me. Her cheeks turn a bright crimson as she ducks her head and scurries over. "What do you want?" She says in a hushed, sharp voice. "You don't yell for me across the whole square! That's idiotic!" In my ever pointless manner, I say, "Hi." Her eyes narrow and her cheeks turn crimson again. I laugh as she rolls her eyes and says, "You're a dolt, you know that?" I giggle. Rosebeam is so fun to embarrass, as mean as it is. Rosebeam starts whacking me lightly. I start to laugh. Rosebeam is so hilarious when she's mad. Call me mean, but that's what friends are for, right? I'm still laughing when the mayor starts the treaty of treason. I force myself to stop, but small giggles work their way up from my stomach and wriggle their way out. A tickly feeling blooms in my tummy from the giggles. I really can't help it. But I stop, so Rosebeam isn't mortified to be standing next to me. I wait for the girl's name to be called while I swallow my laughs. Rosebeam and I won't be called. We're upper class, and we're both only twelve years old. We have as little counts as a kid can get. One. I turn to Rosebeam as the girl's name is called. What if it's someone we know? A nervous feeling replaces my laughs and sends a stone into my gut. I hear the girl's name and almost sigh relief, I thought it wasn't her. But it was. Who else is named Rosebeam Williams? As Rosebeam walks onstage, my head grows lighter and lighter and my eyes roll back into my head. My last conscious thought is that Rosebeam Williams is D10's new tribute. The word "tribute" echos throughout my mind. ''Tribute. ''

District 11, Rose Angelou:

I feel so lonely. If things were different, Kaya would be here at my house, and we'd enjoy the sweltering weather, able to play in the off-season. But things are as they are, and Kaya is dead. I force myself to remember this every day. I just want to forget. But if I do, I might slip up and ask her parents if she can play or where she is. So I choose pain over embarrassment. I can imagine a life, outside of Panem, where there is food and shelter. And we can all be happy for once. But I live in Panem, not anywhere else. And Kaya is dead. These are the simple truths in my life. My life is a simple truth. Rose lives her, in Panem. Her best friend is dead. She died of starvation. Rose will never see her again. Rose is always hungry, because she never gets enough to eat. Rose will NEVER get enough to eat. Because this is Panem. And there is never enough to eat. Except for in the Capitol. There is always enough to eat in the Capitol. These are the truths in my life, my bindings that make me miserable but keep me from going insane. As I walk to the district square, I add more to my list. I could be reaped. If I am reaped, I will die, because I have close to no chances at survival. I run into somebody while I am distracted. Wow. The square fills up fast and it's packed to the point where my family has to stand in the side-streets. I push my way through the crowd to the roped off section for twelve year olds. I wish Kaya were here with me! But she isn't, and she never will be. Suddenly, time freezes as I hear my name being called. I have been reaped.

I know Kaya would have volunteered for me. She was always stronger, faster, and bigger than me. She would have volunteered because she knew she would have had a chance. But me, I have no chance. So I walk onstage, wishing that Kaya were still alive. I add one more truth to my list: I am going to die.

District 12, Liam Charles, Ghost perspective:

There is one thing I miss more than anything. My little sister. She is almost all grown up now, and keeping my family alive. I always thought that she was a weakling, tiny and scared. That's why I always protected her from harm. She doesn't need protection anymore. She's grown up without me, a woman in a child's body. The Hunger Games tore us apart. I thought I would really win, that I could lift the crown of victory. But I didn't. I died. I broke my family's heart. I had made it so far, for a D12 tribute. I outlasted my district partner. And my ally, too. But I made a stupid mistake and the careers got me. I placed fourth. So close to coming back home. So far away, though. And the price I paid was my sister. Not her, but her childish ways, her cuteness. She is so different. Would she be the same if I hadn't died? I'll never know. But until she reaches the age of 18, she is doomed. In danger. And even I can't protect her from The Games. I watch her as she talks with friends, giggles at jokes. But there is a sadness lurking beneath her. A sad, cold flower, blooming in her heart. I watch as the escort picks the girl's strip. I close my eyes and chant ''not Ephedra, not Ephedra, please, not Ephedra! ''But chants never work. It's a waste of my time, so I stop. Why bother? I read the strip before the escort says the name. My heart lurches and I feel light, even for a ghost. The name is Ephedra Charles. My baby sister, the cute, happy one in our family. She shares my fate. But I won't let her die, I can't. She cannot die, and I will make sure of it. And I'll keep the boy, Gale Hazelthorn, alive as well. Because I can't relive my own death, so why should they have to?

Chariot Rides:
The night of the Chariot rides, a survey was passed around technologically. The crowd gave the Chariots ratings out of ten, one, bad, ten, amazing. Here are the results:

District one:

Chandelier was wearing a diamond-design corset, a gold plate short skirt, and knee length gladiator sandals. She had on a huge smile, and was really rockin' the outfit! Canopy had on a tunic-sort thing with different gems covering it. he had on simple flip-flops and a crown of jewels. He looked kind of freaked out about not wearing pants, but he hid it fairly well. Although, there was a consistent blush on his face the whole time... what was that about? Crowd rating: 6

District two:

The girl tribute, Celia, is wearing a baby blue dress that reaches knee length. It has ruffles on the skirt section, and on each ruffle, there are rows of diamond-shaped rocks, like granite and limestone. She also has on lots of jewelry. Marcus, on the other hand, was anything but ruffly! He is dressed in armor with rock plate and a dragon design. When he pushes a secret button, the dragon breaths out fire! The amazed capitol people gave it a 7!

District three:

Lucky Dawn is wearing a shimmery black dress with wires covering it. The wires spark and flash every once in a while. She is wearing black chunky high heels. Digit is dressed in a black suit covered in music chips that blare the capitol anthem. He is wearing earplugs so he doesn't go deaf. The crowd, seeing patriotism, gives them a 7.

District four:

Katerina, our tribute from Four, is looking beautiful in a green dress with sea weed pattern and varying shades of green. The dress is short, reaching mid-thigh. Her originally orange lock is now green, and she wears no shoes. Hugo is dressed in a toga made of the same fabric as Katerina's, and a crown of seashells and seaweed. They look stunning, mesmerizing almost, and the crowd gives them an 8!