Dan Vivace

Name: Dan Vivace

Age: 14

Gender: Male

District: 1 (13, 10, 5, 3)

Weapon: Poison-tipped short knife

Strengths: Fast, plant identification, singing

Weaknesses: Has PTSD, is too serious

Fears: His sister being hurt.

Personality: Dan is very shy, and prefers to not talk. His behavior is very unpredictable, as he can have flashbacks at any moment. He prefers to hum to himself, and is actually a great singer but he's too scared that no one will like him. He refuses to take off his blood-stained hoodie, and the Gamemakers surprisingly won't take it away, even though it might hold concealed weapons. They'll instead scan it before the Games to check for no weapons, as the Peacekeepers are nice this year. He's also very rebellious, and will do many things to defy the Capitol in the arena for killing his twin, Sarina. He's also mute very often, and uses sign language a lot in the arena, which is helpful in the arena. When Dan does talk, it's in a loud pitch. He also will defend himself at any cost.

Backstory: 1st person

Ugh, not you again. Do I HAVE to tell you my life story again? Fine.

I was born into a relatively happy family, my mother working as an accountant, and my dad working as an artist, earning thousands of dollars for his works of art, so we were very wealthy. We lived in the richest part of District 1, were the highly successful businessmen's families lived. I used to play with a small girl my age in the meadow in the back of the neighborhood. Our families were friends. She was the oldest in her family, as was l. One day in November, the girl, named Addy, Sarina, and I decided to go on a hike by ourselves. We were old enough, according to our parents. All of us brought a backpack filled with supplies we'd need to survive a week in the woods. According to our parents, this was also a test to see if we were strong enough to go into the Hunger Games. The three of us, however, didn't want to go in the Hunger Games, unlike many District 1 teenage citizens. Sarina was pulled once when she was 12, but then a 18 year old girl volunteered. She wasn't trained, but she knew that she had to help a poor untrained 12 year old girl. She ended up being runner-up, being killed by a bow shot to both feet and in the chest when the tall boy from 4, who was skilled in archery, came out of a tree while she was sleeping and shot her three times, two in both feet to make sure she couldn't run, then one to the heart, then chopped her in half. I later learned that this girl, this role model for me, was my 8th cousin. Anyways, back to the "hike". As we started trekking into the forest, I ate part of a small golden delicious apple, my favorite. We set up camp well in the woods, it including a big and wide tent with insulation and extra pepper spray bottles on the inside to repel animals. We survived the first night. In the middle of that night, I picked some berries and took a small plastic container with nothing in it and opened it. I smashed the berries in the bottom and used some of my food, the rest of the apple, some strawberries, and a small chunk of banana, to top it off. This was my so-called "cake" for Sarina for the next morning, since it was our birthday that day. She knew I didn't want anything for my birthday. When she woke up, she saw the berry "cake" in front of her with a plastic fork and squealed in delight. "Happy birthday," I told her. That was also the day she died.

"Remember what mom always told us?

When you get lonely, sing.

Sing it for the boys.

Sing it for the girls.

Every time that you lose it, sing it for the world.

Sing it from the heart, sing it 'til you're nuts.

Sing it for the ones that hate your guts.

Sing it for the deaf, sing it for the blind.

Sing about everyone you left behind.

''Sing it for the world. Sing it for the world."''? Sarina asks.

"I'm not the singer mom wanted, but a dancer!" I exclaim. "I refuse to answer!"

"You're a dancer?" I'm not, you'd just hate me saying that I like to sing. I think.

"Yeah." I say. "Fine then though. Can I sing if I want to?" she asks. "Sure." I say. We slept in the same bed. Her voice was like a lullaby, I swear she was the living siren. She could convince others through singing. It creeps me out a little. Now I can barely get to sleep. I still listen to recordings of her voice to try to get me to sleep, but it never works. She was known around Panem for her voice. Many citizens still listen to her singing on recordings like me, and it works for them. Hmm.

"I know this sounds weird, but c-c-can you dance for me?" Sarina asks in a soft voice.

WIP

Song
(I know, MCR again, but remember? MCR = emo tribute.)



Lyrics of this song that inspired this tribute?

Bold: Lyrics that inspired him, Normal: Didn't inspire, Italics: Sung by the so called 'mom'

Also a WIP

Mama, we all go to hell.

Mama, we all go to hell.

I'm writing this letter and wishing you well,

Mama, we all go to hell.

Oh, well, now, Mama, we're all gonna die.

Mama, we're all gonna die.

Stop asking me questions, I'd hate to see you cry,

Mama, we're all gonna die.

And when we go don't blame us, yeah.

We'll let the fires just bathe us, yeah.

You made us, oh, so famous.

We'll never let you go.

And when you go don't return to me my love.

Mama, we're all full of lies.

Mama, we're meant for the flies.

And right now they're building a coffin your size,

Mama, we're all full of lies.

Well Mother, what the war did to my legs and to my tongue,

You should've raised a baby girl, I should've been a better son.

If you could coddle the infection, they can amputate at once.

You should've been,

I could have been,

a better son.

And when we go don't blame us, yeah

We'll let the fires just bathe us, yeah

You made us, oh, so famous.

We'll never let you go.

She said, "You ain't no son of mine

For what you've done they're gonna find

A place for you

And just you mind your manners when you go.

And when you go, don't return to me, my love." That's right.

Mama, we all go to hell.

Mama, we all go to hell.

It's really quite pleasant, except for the smell.

Mama, we all go to hell.

(instrumental break)

2 - 3 - 4!

Mama!

Mama!

Mama!

Mama!

Mama!

Mama! Ma...

And if you would call me your sweetheart,

I'd maybe then sing you a song

But there's shit that I've done with this fuck of a gun,

You would cry out your eyes all along.

We're damned after all!

Through fortune and flame we fall!

And if you can stay, then

I'll show you the way,

To return from the ashes you call!

We all carry on! (We all carry on!)

When our brothers in arms are gone! (When our brothers in arms are gone)

So raise your glass high,

For tomorrow we die,

'''And return from the ashes you call. (Run! Run! Run!)'''