campfire celebration / ratmas day one

[pogue]

C  O  E  N

"And the trees, you've-"

"We've gone over this. Yes, they've been checked for safety."

Coen Tate stares up into the lifelines of his own District, soft wind pulling the veins of the forest left and right in the darkness. The moonlight bleeds in between the branches on a night like this, a dazzling display of white and blue hues colliding with the fiery glow of the lanterns that had been strung up amongst the branches on the outskirts of the clearing. His eyes catch the shadows as they dance in between the trees, a million spirits darting and stumbling between the woods as far as the eye could see.

Finally, he lets a sigh of relief- no, of acceptance, slip through his lips.

It had been a tough couple years for District Seven, their tributes consistently making it into the late Games only to be taken out in the last few moments. Always the bloodied bridesmaids and never the bride, there was a certain heaviness that had hung over the District since the last two Games. Silent and faint but still so entirely there, a reminder of hopes raised and hopes dashed. He should know, he'd known that feeling of gut-wrenching emptiness so many Games ago, still knows it on his worst nights now.

Everyone's ghosts and demons have a way of lingering in these forests, constant reminders laced into the brush and shadows.

It's why he'd been so adamant on an event like this in a time like this, to allow Seven's citizen a moment of release and celebration instead of work and mourning, a moment of unity and life instead of bleeding themselves dry. A clearing in the forest, refreshments and food donated by the District's numerous vendors, Peacekeepers worth the price of a penny paid off to ignore the silver flash of flasks and spirits smuggled in most of the citizen's pockets. He smirks as he looks at the center campfire, practically begging to be lit and clear the air from what Seven had been through, to light the way for all it will become.

The flames light up the clearing as soon as the fire is lit, painting the world beautiful if only for a night. He watches as the smoke climbs towards the moonlit sky, pulling spirit and soul alike up into the heavens. Ghosts linger in these forests, but not on a night like tonight.

E V E N T

To lift spirits and allow citizen's the release and joy they might need after a long year, the District is holding a campfire celebration within the woods of Seven! Refreshments and food are provided, the massive fire in the center is lit and warm, and all of Seven's citizens are invited to come relax and unwind as the cold weather begins to seep into the District's veins once more.

For the citizen who might be a bit more of a thrill-seeker, there is a tree-climbing race available to win some extra special in-character prizes, including food and drink and everything in between!



Tree Climbing

Optionally, you may roleplay your character participating in the tree climbing race being held on the outskirts of the clearing. 

To participate, at the bottom of your post you will use the following dice [*roll=1700+4500] without the asterisks. This will give you a 4 digit number. A decimal point will be placed making the seconds into hundredths of seconds. (example: 5328 will become 53.28 so 53.28 seconds.). The climber with the fastest time wins!



Prizes:

Winning the event portion gets you 5 ratmas points!

Participating gives you 1 ratmas point per post, so there are no losers here!

(You can collect a point per post you make in these events, with a current point cap of 15pts overall.
If you win an event, you will be awarded 5 points for your win. This does not contribute to the point cap!)


If there are any questions please let me or any of the other veteran members know!

[Deleted]

The people of District Seven were hopeful towards the end of the last games. And then it was all ripped away from us with a swing of a sword. We thought we were bringing home a Victor. But, we weren't. Morale was low, but as Ratmas came it seemed things were finally starting to pick back up with a bonfire.

As the bonfire began and people started to mingle, things started to feel normal again. Year after year two tributes from here died, yet we still celebrated Ratmas. Why should this year be any different to us? It's not like I really knew either tribute, so I wasn't too upset at the results of the games. Though Whiskey Finch did catch my attention.

I heard something about a tree climbing competition and got a little excited. I may have not been a lumberjack, but that didn't stop me from feeling connected to nature. I think most of us here did. To me I felt connected to the sense of calm that nature invoked. I was a light breeze, a tiny stream moving through the rocks, a lazy spring day. Just before the competition started I slipped off my boots and socks - it helps with traction - I think.

And as it began, up I went.

47.03 seconds

uMjde|zkxS1700+4500

1700+4500

[thompson harvard - d2b - arc]

{ wynn }

The energy in the classroom following the loss was devastating. There was a buzz around the classroom here and there when it was leading up to the close of the Games. We had someone getting far, we had a chance. Kids would even talk about what they wanted to say to him when he returned. They asked me if they could write letters to him, congratulating him for coming home and sending him good wishes. Of course, I wasn't endorsing this. I didn't think a victor would like to be congratulated by a bunch of random classroom kids. Now a few of them want to write letters to their parents - if he had any parents. I don't even know, personally. I don't need them feeling like there's never hope. Because there can be. It's hard to believe with our win ratio, but there's always a chance. We deserve a spot as much as anyone else does, of course.

This fire thing was cool, so I decided to take Owen up to the event. It was being organized by his... half uncle? I don't really know what the right term is for it, but he's a Tate and I know that. Maybe Coen would recognize him, though I'm doubtful. It's hard to imagine that Coen knows anything about Owen, perhaps just that he exists.

After getting the kid a smaller cup of hot chocolate, we spent a few minutes walking around. He stopped for a moment when he saw a girl from school that he was apparently friends with. She was with her mother. I gave the mother a friendly smile as the two blabbered on about who-knows-what. I heard the girl mention that she wanted to do the climbing wall but, she was too short to be allowed. That got me thinking. I looked down at Owen and gave him a question with a silly, shit-eating grin on my face. "Owen, you think I could do it?" It's been a while since I've lived. "Of courth!" He has a bit of a lisp, making all of his s's a -th- sound. It was kind of cute.

Anyway, I decided it was time to live a bit. Maybe it's a tribute to those who died in the past. To the Sues, the Whiskeys, the Daniels and the Tybalts. The tribute who died for us, and we live for them.

"Watch me!"

AY4Nugqhwj1700+4500
49.68

1700+4500

[d4 Panda Scope [Gayton]]

Have I known you twenty seconds,
or twenty years?

The dust of an old book opened for the first time in years mixed with the fresh breeze of oak-sifted air tipped against my nose like a friendly ladybug. How many days had I spent propped against this same coarse tree trunk silently flipping through stories of unrealistic romances and fantastical adventures next to my best friend, Perry. It felt like thousands but also like a once-in-a-life-time simultaneously.

I didn't know Perry all that well. We did a lot of reading and that's it. Reading wasn't exactly a get to know you situation. I always yearned to speak but it never felt like the right time.

"It's that time of year, getting colder," I said. Weather was the perfect icebreaker. "I heard they're doing a tree climbing race this year, how silly." I giggled. It was out of character for me to speak without being spoken to. But not as out of character as it was for Perry to do what he did.

Grandfather didn't like when I left home. He put up with me reading with Perry, he thought it was studying. But going out and about the District was never something he allowed. But 'tis the season, or something like that and even Grandfather allowed me to go out and enter that competition. I had meant it as a joke when I brought it up to Perry. I thought we'd sit back and laugh at everyone. I didn't know he'd be in a mood to do something crazy and inevitably embarrassing. But like I said, tis the season.

Lyrics: "Lover" by Taylor Swift

Y|eK1Wg_L81700+4500
57.281700+4500

[D6f Carmen Cantelou [aza]]

^{stefani sinclair}

I've long known that my place isn't here. Seven seems so wildly unwild in its stature: it has quickly transformed into a sanctuary for the losing ones over the past few years... we've become riddled with being the Games' problem child that exists so boldly and brightly until said existence ceases to exist anymore. A light that manages to blind itself — Seven is certainly the world's loser. And sure, maybe that doesn't have to be a bad thing for some people, and good for them, but for me — no, nah, it isn't enough.

I don't feel bad for wanting more. For so long, I've been so scared to do anything because I've felt like the ground beneath my feet is frail, treacherous in fact, and that it will crumble after I take just one step. And whilst my heart is heavy, I am not a wholly heavy girl — I'm just damned to hell for being unsatisfied with the life I've been given. This ground could swallow me whole in an instant and I think I've finally gotten to the point where I would not even care. Not a flinch or an eyelid bat in shock or horror, just acceptance, because any place is better than here.

I'd decided to enter this tree climbing competition because I can't stand having my feet on this earth for much longer. If I am to break free of Seven's shackles then I've got to put the energy in to actually trying; hoping and dreaming isn't going to do anything except snowball my sadness into something of a more permanent depression, and I like the current state of my hair and skin too much to risk losing my youth in favour of having a cloud over my head.

It's time to branch out from this place. So consumed by its pity parties — there must be a world where being alive destines a person to something more than death. Bright, neon lights and tumultuous teenage boozers enthral me much more than anything here does. The only thing stopping me from escaping the hell I'm bound to is glory.

So this, here, marks day one of learning to break out and break free. I don't care if I fall and hit every branch on the way down, today is significant. Living doesn't have to be a lifetime away.

Qte0vyQsaz1700+4500

1700+4500

[pogue]

He makes one thing clear to himself in the mirror before heading out: he's going to this thing for business, not pleasure.

Seven had long since been known for not knowing how to make it to the end, constantly existing in the wake of Mackenzie Pryce's victory yet not knowing how to pull itself from those shackles. He sighs as he makes his way towards the bonfire, hit with a wall of somber energy that clashes and collides against the celebratory nature of the fire itself. Citizens mix and mingle, stories told in the light of the flames that dance in the midnight wind, an endless wave of orange and red hues bouncing against the tree line,

He smiles, grabbing a drink from the refreshment table and looking at the situation in front of him. If there was anything Seven knew how to do it was to drink its sorrows away.

He counts the ghouls and the ghosts in the reflections of flasks shared between friends as he makes his way through the crowd, the warmth of the fire singing his skin as he comes too close, sweat trickling down from his brow and arcing down his cheek before he moves away from the crowded fire and over towards the tree climbing station.

White knuckles bend and groan as he cracks his knuckles, glancing up and watching the tree stretch up into the night sky. He bites his lip as he makes his way to the front of the line, away from the pity party and towards the only reason he'd come here in the first place. Training was training, after all, he proves himself right as he traces a path up the tree.

Hand around the first branch and he feels the ground beneath him one last time before the clock chimes, and he's off.

_YhFGQCrMP1700+4500

1700+4500

[lucius branwen / 10 — fox]

p e r r y

sometimes i'd watch pinocchio between the sunlight falling through the windows, hair caught in a beam. i'd rest against the sill, another book in my lap to weigh down some consuming desire to fall out of my life, and catch him thumbing through the pages, golden hues playing through the branches, on the walls, on his skin.

it's weird how we ended up like this, sat crossed-legged across eachother in silence. a hundred books traded and sold, and only one person ever stuck around.

when i looked at him yesterday, he was looking at me – "it's that time of year, getting colder," he said, the fireplace in our study crackling as if on cue. "i heard they're doing a tree climbing race this year, how silly." silly – how they made a game out of labour, how they can make a game of anything.

but there was an eagerness pressed in the seconds of silence. "you want to do it?" i asked, and somehow the joke was lost in translation.

and now we're here.

shit, that's life i guess.

{ boy, that sure-fire desire is t r u e }

bOD3zHJQ|l1700+4500

1700+4500

[bailee]

STEVIE.

Mom said this would be the perfect way to get out of the house and enjoy myself for once. My sisters had told me that the Ratmas campfire celebration were one of their core memories growing up. 

I didn't doubt what my sister's told me was false for a second, however I did doubt the entertainment factor of a campfire celebration when I a. had no friends and b. was in the midst of an existential crisis, but the begging and pleading of my mother lead me to agreeing to go and at least try and have a good time. 

"Are you here for the tree climb race?" someone asked as I stopped to admire the swiftness and gracefulness of the tree climbers. I lacked the upper body strength, but the athleticism of the participants made me crave the endorphins that I had missed from running, the wind in my hair that sent shivers down my spine. 

"Sure," I responded, "why not?"

tZ9yDDYXKI1700+4500

elegant

1700+4500

[kap]

Fuse Prank

I loved the idea of a tree climbing competition. It was a chance to show off how coordinated I am. Obviously, I've always been the most agile and coordinated of all of my siblings. That much is clear. Now, I just needed to compare myself to the rest of the district. I had been climbing trees all my life. It wasn't anything new. Then again, that was probably the case for most of District Seven's kids.

I wondered if I would actually do as well as I thought I could. I didn't want any slip-ups. That wouldn't look good, and it could definitely hurt if I made a misstep. So, I focused myself, and when it was time to start, I got moving.

8DE3oFhaMW1700+4500
55.99

1700+4500

[revel latimer, 11b 🔍 jay]

They're louder tonight.

Lysander couldn't sleep from all the voices in his head, the whispers have kept him awake for a couple of nights now. Maybe it had to do with Whiskey and Aspen, two souls who toed the line between the planes of life and death, two souls who were so close to making it out with their lives intact. The spirits were rageful, Lysander could sense it in the wind. He's never going to be able to sleep with all the racket echoing in his skull.

He wouldn't have gone if it was any other day, any normal day, where he could block the spirits out of his mind. Most of Seven has never accepted him, the Riddle name was more of a curse than anything, it was synonymous with insane. It felt awkward, being amongst them, watching the flames light up the world around us. They paid him no mind, though, and a part of him was grateful for that. Silence has grown on him these last few months.

There are people racing up the trees, trying to get the fastest time, but none of them were particularly fast. Lysander grew up in the forest, the trees were his second home. He found his God within the forest, its pine-cone heart beat in a wild cadence with his own. He cracked a smile watching them all go up, the first real one in a moment.

Maybe he'll show them how it's all done.

wj0cnqkSMu1700+4500

1700+4500

[pogue]

closin' up this fun little campfire celebration! Thanks everyone for participating!

congrats to Birdie for winning the event (and 5 points!)