The 775th Hunger Games



Hey, I'm Redhairblueeyes here with my 1st Hunger Games. I was previously a very inactive user but I assure you, I will be more active.

Rules

 * There's no limit on tributes.
 * I'll try to update everyday, if not every other day.
 * These will contain cussing.
 * Please include an RL of good quality, a lunaii and an anime image for your tributes. If they don't have them I'll make/find them.
 * The more active you are the better chance your tributes have of winning.
 * Your tributes must follow the simple template on the Tribute Fill-Out Guide.
 * This year there will be 8 tributes per district.
 * Also, there will be 10 victors.
 * More twists may be revealed throughout the Games. >:^)

Tributes
Bolded: Placeholder tribute

Alliances
* means awaiting approval

Underlined means leader.

Strike though means dead.

Please note, all placeholders are loners. The section "placeholders" is to show the difference between normal tributes and placeholders.

The Arena
This years arena is an large jungle full of dreadful twists and turns around every corner. There's plenty of mutts under the large, green trees waiting to slaughter an unlucky tribute. But that's the boring part.

Towards the south-east end of the Cornucopia there's a large limestone temple in ruins. In the middle of it is a massive hoard of supplies that could lead the acquirer to victory. But there's one problem in getting to the stash: the giant cobra.

It's about 40 (yeah, you don't wanna mess with it) feet tall and 1 and a half feet wide. On the edges of the serpent's hood is poisonous spikes the size of a fully grown man's thumb. Despite it's teeth having poison that can kill you in thirty seconds at most, it prefers to chew it's victims up before swallowing them. But the scariest part about the creature is it's ear-splitting screech...

Monty Sachar, Capitol (BB)
I think I have made a new best friend. Fear, a constant companion now that day that I have been waiting for - quite reluctantly - has finally arrived. No tributes wants to wait for the first day of the Hunger Games, but we have to. There is no choice in the matter - we simply can’t back out of it. I guess the feeling is more like an ominous black cloud which is hanging on the horizon the first time you see it but every time you look towards it, it seems that bit closer. Today the cloud is right over head, and with it, it brings a deep sense of fear and dread of what todays events may unfold. I try not to think about it - but it’s hard when the sun has been blocked out by a mass of swirling darkness.

I sit in the hovercraft, with all my other tributes sat with me. We are strapped in tightly - as if we would run away if we had the chance. I look around at a few of the other tributes - Brianna (7F), Wheeler (6M), Laelynn (5F) - they all sit as tense as I in their seats, the colour from their faces seems to have washed away in a frightful second of unseen rain. Their faces, the emotion on their faces, makes me turn away and grip the edges of my seat; I struggle to fathom why some of my fellow tributes seems so calm. Their faces are so still and tranquil you’d think they’d forgotten we’re going to die. Perhaps their poker faces are better than mine, I think as a Capitol woman begins her rounds.

I hear a wince from Max (8M), an ow from Jynx (6F) and crying from Amelia (6F) and I wonder what is going on and it is only when a Peacekeeper reaches me do I realize that she has some sort of contraption in her hand. What it does, I am unsure of until she presses it against my skin and injects something into my arm; it doesn’t hurt, so I don’t see why people are getting upset about it. This must be the tracker I was told about by my mentor, Heron, the thought crosses my mind as I watch the Peacekeeper walk down the line of tributes until every single one of us have been injected with the device. I dread to think what else the Game Makers use it for, other than finding out dead and decomposing corpse’s in the arena.

The hovercraft begins to descend and my stomach lurches. The movement is steady but it feel sudden with my nerves heightened - fear has already got me on edge - and I suddenly get the urge to cry and call for Uncle Finn but I keep it back. I keep it locked up because that is the last thing I want to be seen as, weak. It’s hard because fear is so very overwhelming, it drowns me, keeps me under like a drug and I can’t break free of it and only fight it. I bite my lip in hopes it’ll stop the tears that threaten to fall down my cheeks.

We are loaded off the hovercraft by Peacekeepers and taken separately to a series of rooms down a long, never ending corridor. The footsteps of the Peacekeepers metal boots is deafened by the beating of my own heart which seems to quicken as we reach my door; I am surprised it doesn’t have my name on it but the cold, metal door does not appear welcoming. Inside, waits my stylist who says no other words to me other than good luck which is accompanied with a pat on the shoulder. Good luck? I frown at her as I slowly step into the glass tube behind me, is that all you have to say? Good luck.

I stare at her for the longest while, with a look of disbelief on my face. I want to tell her she’s useless but the sudden rising of the metal plate I am stood on causes my gaze to falter and my feet to stumble. I catch myself on the glass, steadying myself as the metal plate beneath my feet rises slowly. I feel like groaning, the movement is so painstakingly slow that I begin to believe that this is just the Gamemakers way for toying with us; soon my stylist disappears and I am shrouded in darkness for the briefest moment before I breach the surface of the arena.

A burning, harsh air clutches at me, slapping me hard in the face as the podium rises into the arena. It takes a gasp out of me, it is almost as if someone has punched me in the gut, forcing all the air from my lungs in one foul swoop. For a moment, I forget to breath and I find myself gasping for unneeded breath; the hot burns stings my bare skin, my mouth and my eyes as I try to ground myself. I try to focus on everything but it takes a moment for me to remember who I am and why I am here. I blink once more, taking a deep breath, touching the bracelet I have on my wrist before I turn my gaze from the podium at my feet to the arena around me.

I am amazed by the bright green canvas that stretches out - forever it seems - into the distances where you can get a small glimpse of trees.

Just as I notice the items, a booming voice begins over the arena. A countdown has begun and I feel my stomach sink, twist and contort painfully as realisation washes over me that it’s counting down to my death. I look desperately round at the rest of them - 127 of them are surrounding the Cornucopia on podiums just like mine. In the distance, I see Kat (1F) and her bright red hair. After I find my gaze falling on Gladia (2M), who is not far from my own podium, and I soon move from him and see Chloe (14F) a few podiums away from him.

I turn my attention back to the Cornucopia and on to the treasures that lay within.

9...

I inhale, exhale, the basic movements for living.

8...

I clench my fists.

7...

I glance at the other tributes and wonder which one will kill me first.

6...

I glance again and wonder which one I will have to kill first.

5...

I turn my gaze back to the pile of goods.

4...

That’s when it hits me.

3...

With three seconds to go.

2...

A sudden realisation that…

1...

I want to live.

Clara Jane, District 12 (BB)
The moment the gong sounds, the arena changes. It was as if someone had knocked a bees nest from its perch, causing a swarm of frantic, angry bees to escape their broken hive; it was as if someone had knocked a bees nest from its perch, smothered themselves in honey and when a swarm of frantic angry bee’s flew towards them, the bees saw the honey and began to fight one another. Which is horrible because bees die after they sting you. We are a little different to the bees but in many cases, we are not.

Everywhere I look, people are punching, kicking just to get hold of weapons and those who might have grabbed onto something, their hands grasping about in the field are now attacking with those weapons. It’s madness because wherever I look, it is like a blur. People are moving so fast, grabbing items or even squabbling for them. They act like animals, they are wolves fighting over the dead corpse of a deer. I try to refuse to be like that, I want to refuse to fight over petty things. I have the urge to live, survive but at first I can’t bring myself to attack.

Then I see a weapon lying discarded in the grass. From where I am stood, I can’t see what exactly it is but whatever it is, it is better than using my own fists as swords and knives that are horribly blunted from over use. I got to run, grab at the weapon when I see Ginny (10F) running in the direction of the Cornucopia. In the direction of my weapon. I have no idea if she is after the item on the ground too, but I can’t let her get it. I just can’t

I break into a sprint again, running this time in the direction of the weapon, smothered by grass. I see Ginny (10F) running in the same direction to. Our paths are perpendicular to one another. We collide, or at least, I lunge at her so that our bodies collide in some shape or form but whether she falls to the ground as I do, I don’t know.

Meredith Campbell, District 7 (BB)
'''BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!'''

Plants shuffle beneath my feet as I close the space between me and the first wave of items sprawled around the Cornucopia. A flash of blonde hair to my right, figures struggling to their left. Red already splattered on the bright green grass. Was it my own? Was it Norman's (1M)? Was it all in my head? I hadn't slept well the night before and now the whole Arena seemed to shift around. All flat and two dimensional like a stick figure drawing on the side of a building. I felt like a piece of paper about to be ripped in two. Here, the other way to stay whole was to tear someone else a new one. As long as others were bleeding, I wasn't.

'''BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!'''

Curling my fingers into fists, I jump onto the nearest tribute, pounding my hands into them. I recognize them. Maylin (11M).

'''BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Losing my balance, I fall of my prey onto the green strip, landing right beside an ax lodged in the ground. My fingers wrap around it and the weight of it in my hands felt better than anything he I known before. Let the Games begin...

Zach Winnings, District 0 (BB)
Fists fly and punches blossom and there's already carnage everywhere. And whilst they're all busy killing each-other I take it upon myself to have some fun, cartwheeling through the mess of tributes and laughing as they all hack away at each-other in a desperate lunge for items. The Capitol will love this (and I predicted it, didn't I?) and my District will love this and I laugh, tumbling around them with glee. This most certainly is a game and I'm going to make damn well sure I have the time of my life.

But my fun is cut short as my foot collides with a tribute mid-cartwheel and my hands slip on the orange-ish dirt, almost falling over myself. "Watch it!" I scream - dusting myself off to assess the damage. James already grabbed a sword and a pang of jealousy courses through me - Axinite a spear and Brett some sort of axe thing. Fashionably late, I look around for a weapon but it seems everyone else has taken a good weapon, dammit. My hands find a slingshot thing and I toss a few rocks up into the air, juggling and laughing before twisting around to aim and fire into thin air - it's not much, but it'll do, at least. "Fire in the hole!!!"

It ends up hitting Eufemia (13F) and she falls into Finn's (4M) trident. Her cannon booms with a surprising seven others.

Hailee O'Brien, District 2 (BB)
Okay, okay. This is plenty. I'm able to force a thought through this cage called a body that I'm trapped inside of. I look around, violence, death, white, red. All of these swirl together in my vision, becoming so similar it was hard to tell them apart. I must flee now. I have no choice but to flee at this point. I have enough, it's no longer safe here. Who am I kidding. It was never safe here. It won't ever be safe here. This place will never be safe for anybody ever. Except maybe those stupid Capitolites who tour the arena after the Games are all over. I turn around and bolt with one thing on my mind.

Run. Nothing else at this moment matters. Not Dance mob family. Not whether this is a dream. If I were going to make it back to District Two, it all depended on this moment. But I have to get a weapon, that’s what matters now. My eyes remain wide open as she attempt to remember here strategy for retrieving things. And all I can think about is getting my hand on a weapon, none of those little objects that might help me. I need a protection, and I'll claw through anyone I have to in order to get one.

There it is, a bow. Just what I need. Like a grubby spoiled child, I grab it with complete selfishness. I attempt to shoot at numerous tributes such as Cliffe (10M) and Violet (11F), but I always miss. I pick up a nearby quiver and flee a long with most other tributes.

Death Chart
I'll update this at a time when I won't get distracted.