The Bloodbath

[Tori]

How the games will work:

This thread will be open from February 11th, to February 15th. You must post at least once within this time period to not be considered inactive. And you must post at least once every time I give a deadline as well. This thread is for roleplaying, so feel free. The tributes at the bottom have been randomly selected for death. You must roleplay your final breaths(and by must, I mean you can I you want.) In order to kill a tribute(one that has been preselected below) please decuss it with them first. Don't two people kill the same tribute, it's confusing.

Once your character has grabbed their items and successfully escaped the bloodbath, you are free to roleplay in other areas of the arena. There is will no more posting in this thread after the 15th. After the 15th, the rest of day one will officially start(although you can start it after you escape the cornucopia if you wish).

Please note, during the games, your character may only be in one thread, and it must be in the arena. Please put FINISHED as the thread title when you are finished with that thread and wish to more to a new one in the arena.

If you have any questions on how you get parachutes, fight, or play the games in general(or anything else), don't hesitate to message me.

Your uniform:
long-sleeved brown shirt
black long pants
boots
black jacket

The unluckiest tributes are:
Sylthis -D4M
Dalton Fahert -D9M
Jasna Michelson -D6F
Senia Alexanderson -D8F
Jayson Calloway -D10M
Ralph Hawk -D7M

5...
4...
3...
2...
1...
[GONG!]
May the odds be ever in your favour!

[tardisgirl]

Iris Brookside. Girl Tribute from District 5.

60 seconds. That’s all of my life I have left before the Games begin. As soon as I’m lifted into the Arena, I’ve only got 60 seconds of freedom left.

The plate I’m standing on begins to rise as these thoughts flash through my head. I’m dressed warmly in a long-sleeved brown shirt, black long pants, boots, and a black jacket, so I’m not too surprised to find snow at eyelevel as I’m rising up. I can’t say the same for the rest of the Arena. Nothing has prepared me for this moment.
As I rise, I see a gigantic mountain, directly across from me. I look to my left and right and see a massive frozen lake and a pine woods. I turn my head and see what look like trees blackened by fire far behind me. And snow, everywhere there is a white, fluffy blanket. At the moment I can’t do anything but thank the Lord that it’s winter and my body is fairly used to cold because of that.

Then my plate stops moving and I hear the voice, Claudius Templesmith. “Ladies and Gentlemen, let the 53rd Annual Hunger Games Begin!”

60 seconds, to think or anything, or more likely, everything.

I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to leave my family forever, but more then that I really don’t want to kill. Not them. I think, looking around the circle of Tributes. Not kids. Not people my own age. Not people who might have been my friends.

50 seconds.

I think of my family, how much I love and miss them, and how I pray they’ll be okay if the unthinkable should happen.

40 seconds.

I think of the days to come. Of the fights. Of the deaths. Of the pain.

30 seconds.

I think of my tactics. Where to run, what to go for, who to avoid.

20 seconds

I think of my allies and look for them. There, I see Dalton just barely. He’s far to my right. I can’t see Ralph, but only two plates to my left is Ruby, and I see my District Partner, Colton Brax, just a few plates beyond her. Directly beside me is Wendy. I think of how we were going to be allies, and even though we no longer are, I pray she’ll live. Really, I liked her, and I can’t bare the thought of one of the ones I know and like dying right here, right next to me.

10 seconds.

I think of my family again, my mother, sisters, dog, friends, animals I trained, my dead father. I love them all, and I picture each for a split second before letting them go. My father. If I die, I’ll be with him. I bet he’s there, rooting for me in heaven right now, and if I die, I’m going somewhere better. I hold onto this though as if it’s the only part of reality I have left.

5 seconds.

I pray. I pray to God that I live, that my friends live, that I see my family again, that if I go I go with honor, and most of all, that I won’t change. That I won’t become a mindless killer, a pawn of The Capitol. I pray for strength to face the days to come.

1 second.

I brace myself, lean forward in a running stance, clasp my token wolf tooth bracelet, and zone in on what I’m going for.

*GONG*

I’m off and running.

[sbeeg]

Windy was tugging on the ends of her brown shirt, stretching them out no doubt with her nervousness. When the plate under her started to move she closed her eyes and waited until it stopped smoothly in place before she looked around.
Snow, cold. That's the first thoughts that entered Windy's brain about the arena. Snow wrapped the ground in a blanket of snow. Windy twisted her torso around to get a full view.
Large mountains, charred trees, a snowy forest in the distance, a frozen lake- a lake. Was ice fishing as hard as regular fishing? Windy took a slow chilly breath and begin pulling at her district token. She tried to recognize the tributes beside her but her mind was so nervous and the clothing so uniform she couldn't tell anyone apart.
Claudius Templesmith was announcing something however Windy's brain was swimming with statistics and strategies. Through the muck she realized she had an entire minute left.
The ocean- she wants to see the ocean at least one more time. Some tributes are in poses to run at the large pile of weapons and supplies at the center of the circle of teenagers. However Windy just stands on her plate fiddling with her necklace.
Time seemed to last forever. Windy ended up counting how many times she blinked while standing perfectly still on her metal plate.
The finally the gong sounded. Windy's mind was working a bit slowly and she was still on her plate a half of a second longer than the rest of the tributes.
"The ocean," She breathed, letting her necklace hang from her neck again before beginning the 53rd Hunger Games.

[masterred999]

(Note: I might never talk to you guys again, probably Quint and Thundy I'll talk to)

Ralph Hawk (final post):

This was it.... The Hunger Games. My sister, brother and Serena were watching at home I was sure of that. I had 60 seconds to get off this platform and run away. I knew that Dalton was going to stay, Ruby and Iris were going to follow someplace else and get away from the Cornucopia. 15 seconds.... I looked around and saw Dalton, he did a wink at me and I knew it meant good luck. 5 second.... I got into position and wore my token, a amulet from District 7. THEN IT CAME....

BANG! THE BELL WENT OFF

I jumped off the platform and looked around for a good place to run. I looked to my right horrified to see Dalton get struck by knife. He slumped to the ground dropping his things. I started to run thinking... He's dead, but he won't be forgotten. I was halfway outta the Cornucopia when I spotted the boy from District 12. Arbor Halt was his name. His was blind too. I knew this was an easy kill. That's when I charged forward, although I was already questioning whether I could kill a person, I had to. I had no choice. And I was about to tackle the boy and end his life until some force pulled me back onto the ground. I looked up to see the District 2 male. I didn't expect him to fight anyone. Actually, I thought he'd die pretty soon at the Blood Bath. But so he was attacking me. I threw up my arm and punched him in the eye, knocking him back a bit. Then he wrapped his hands around my neck and he then had control from there. And the last seconds of my life I remembered everything and said my last words,"I'll miss you District 7..." Then he twisted his hands sideways, my neck along with it, ending my life in just a blink of an eye...

(end of Ralph Hawk)

-Edited By Quint with Permission with Red-

[Tori]

Anastasia Estrange

On my way walking to the platform, I took in what was really happening. This was really it. In a few minutes, I could be dead. I couldn't afford to wasting time worrying however, if I didn't want to die.

Stepping onto the platform, I examined what they had put me in. My mind must've been distracted when I was putting it on, because I didn't pay in the slightest attention. I was wearing a long sleeze brown shirt, and it was thicker than any shirt I had ever worn. On top of that was a black jacket that didn't seem to offer that much protection. I can expect cold weather. I was wearing long black pants and boot. A jacket and boots? Really cold weather.

I lost my balance for a moment as the platform started to rise. Is it really time already? I'm not ready for this. I wasn't ready for this. I took a few deep breaths a prepared myself, I knew once I hit the top I would have to push everything aside and concentrate only on my survival. Ben. Sarah. I closed my eyes and pushed the thoughts aside.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the 53rd Annual Hunger Games Begin!”

I hadn't realized the platform had stopped. I opened my eyes quickly. How much time have I lost? 2 seconds? 3? Every second was vital. I got to work. I had roughly 50 seconds to plan my strategy.

Snow. There was snow everywhere. And a slight wind picking up. I gripped my arms, pulling my jacket closer to my body. It was going to be a rough game. I looked around there we 24 of us all spaced out an equal distance fro the cornucopia. I recalled training. I was faster than most of the tributes. I might have a chance to sprint in and grab some good gear. I made this my plan.

I looked around the arena, calculating how each setting would fair. The mountains and forest looked like the safest placesto go. But since everyone was going to one of those, it made the other areas even safer. I didn't have time to fully calculate all the variables of my theories because the gong rang out.

Without a thought, I ran forward. My toned legs from swimming pushing me quickly toward the cornucopia. I was going all the way to the center. I'm doing it. That was until I saw one of my teammates.

[Quint]

Archer Fields[/u]

The Blood Bath

The little time they gave Archer to run from Point A to Point B was completely ludicrous. Completely absurd. Completely...genius. He, although not the strongest tribute, he was fast if need be. He could sprint. Though his endurance was horrible. At first, he’d be able to sprint swiftly through the other tributes. Though he didn’t expect many to go in. Or at least not the lower districts. Careers were absent in this portion of the Games. And honestly, to Archer, this was anyone’s game. Anyone could win. Anyone could fight. Anyone could kill. If he was able to catch enough supplies to survive at least a week and the others did the same, they’d have all the food they would need to outlast the others. And that wasn’t even including the sponsors. If they had any. Apparently, he’d have to run into the Blood Bath, and fight off as many tributes as he could. He wasn’t a fighter, and as much as his skill was useful, he didn’t think it would work so early in the Games. Archer would have to save it for later. If he survived of course. Every single second on his small podium surged through his mind, literally tearing him apart.

The 60-count was running low now, leaning towards the high 20’s. He looked around, all of the tributes were placed side by side, all at least more than 6 feet away from each other. He braced himself, inching forward a bit, getting ready to leap off his podium and launch himself into a full on sprint. Archer would need perfect timing. Perfect balance. And perfect everything. A perfectly executed survival so to speak. Perhaps, if he won, he’d earn some respect among District 2. And that’s exactly what he intended to do. Off to 15 now. And so, in 15 seconds, he’d be running for his life, scrambling to pick what he could, and all the while, do his best to kill another human being in the process. And while all this would be happening, approximately 21 other tributes would be doing their best end the others’ life. Him included. That, in fact, was something Archer didn’t intend to have. 10 seconds now.

9...

Would a noble death be better than a humiliating death?

8...

For Archer, being amongst the first to die in the Hunger Games made him feel unimportant. Forgotten.

7...

Because the audience only really paid attention to the ones who made it through and made a show. Or better yet, the victor.

6...

He didn’t want to die first. He wanted to survive. Archer wanted to win.

5...

Maybe Arbor could win if he didn’t. After all, he did deserve from what Archer was open to see.

4...

But as much as he felt sympathy towards his disabled ally, he remembered one thing and one thing before anything else.

3...

Every single victor in the previous Hunger Games had been willing to kill.

2...

They were ruthless, turned from feeble scared children to proud killing machines...

1...

He really had no choice.

0...
Archer would have to change. Just like all the other victors did.

*GONG*

The ringing of the gong slithered through his ears and time slowed down just as it did in his training session. He was about a second late, but he was able to catch up real quick to the others. They had all made a plan a couple of nights before. Zinnia, Ailia, and Jeremy would stick together for the time being and fight in the Blood Bath while Archer and Arbor would team up right after the start. The two groups would be separated for a few days, but hopefully, the alliance would be able to meet up soon just as planned.

It was a scary thing, really. Knowing that you could die just in an instant. Knowing that at least 21 other tributes were out to slit your throat. And that didn’t even count the others either. The other 4 in his alliance. At first, he had strictly made an alliance with Arbor, then all of sudden, Jeremy, the boy from District 3, wanted in. Then, next thing he knew, he was allied with the District 3 girl (apparently, both District 3 tributes were already allied) who so happened to be allied with Zinnia, the District 1 female. Some would dare call them the ‘Careers’ of this Hunger Games, taken in that they were all the biggest alliance in the Games, but no. They were far from being Careers.

Well, they had Zinnia, who was apparently homeless back in District 1, and then there was Ailia and Jeremy, both not looking very strong and the fact that they are from District 3 not helping either. And of course, the blind boy from District 12. And finally, Archer Fields, the insecure, suicidal recovering, feeble, little nerd from District 2.

So the plan was to meet up with Arbor, who persisted on running by himself much to Archer’s discontent, and then flee off into the somewhere safe for the time being. He found Arbor running, with yet another boy running after him. Ready to tackle him, the attacker was prepared to kill. Archer sped up and sent himself sprawling at the boy and threw him down on his back. He jumped on-top of him and grappled for a bit. The boy then threw a punch at his face, throwing Archer back to the ground. But Archer sprung himself upward and launched at the boy once again. He quickly fixed his hands around the boy’s neck and twisted sideways without thought. The dead boy’s limp body lay there in the snow.

Archer backed away, slowly taking in what had just happened. “Arbor!” he called out, starting to run after the blind boy. The cameras couldn’t see it, but silently, oh so silently, tears were slowly falling under Archer’s eyes.


[/size][/color]

[ja'mie]

ailia goodnite . the defiant one

The day had been long, agonizing, and somewhat surreal.

Ailia had woken up to the hooting of an owl. Yet, it didn't sound like like the owls back from District Three. It was stranger; a hollow, haunting echo. It was as if the bird were asking for someone, but were always answered with the silence of the night. As if they were forever wandering in their miserable loneliness.

She didn't fall asleep again, even though it was still dark outside. Instead, she got out of bed and sat in a corner of the room. It made her feel as if she was back at home, sitting in that little corner in the attic...

At six thirty in the morning, there came an excited knock on the door. Ailia wasn't in the mood for vistors. She didn't answer.

Another knock, harder this time.

Honestly, Ailia didn't want company. She wanted to be alone, so she could extend the feeling of sereness that had washed over her up until now. After a few moments of perfect silence, Ailia wondered if the person had actually left. She was in no such luck.

"Ailie, darling, time to get up! It's the big d--" Her eccentric mentor cried as she burst through the wooden door. Yet she stopped mid-sentence at the sight of Ailia's alert, widened eyes staring back at her from the shadowed nook in the lush tribute suite.

"Oh, I see you are already awake." The woman's voice seemed somewhat disturbed, and she backed out of the room disconcertedly. "We have a meeting with the stylists in an hour," she called as she shut the door with a final 'click'.

~~~

And now Ailia was being led to the metallic platform that would lead her into the games with perfectly curled golden locks and dark, volumized lashes.

Her stylists had really put in the effort to make sure she was positively prepped for her first day in the games.

How thoughtful of them.

Of course, the heavy attire she had been given to change into really downplayed their hard work. She wore a long-sleeved, chestnut-colored shirt, covered by a thin black jacket (which matched the black pants). The pant legs were tucked into large, substantial boots. As ample as the outfit was, it fit her perfectly and the fabric seemed well-made. The phrase that she had been hearing throughout her stay at the training center flashed through her mind. Only the best for our tributes.

The best knives, the best spears, the best tents, the best helmets...

The best arena to accommodate the best murders.

She was on the platform now, and it was rising slowly. This was it. This was the real deal. Good thing she had nothing to think about, nothing to yearn for back from District Three. She didn't want to waste her time and energy thinking up honorable thoughts about "friends", and "family", and "what could have been".

As the platform neard the top, it started to get colder. So this was going to be a cold hunger games then. Ailia crossed her arms, trying to hold in what little body warmth she had.

Finally, the platform reached the top. Her vision blurred slightly, then a white blanket of snow came into view. It covered everything. All twenty-five tributes, including herself, were circled around the golden, glistening cornucopia. Ice-covered weapons, back packs, and sleeping bags littered the ground near it, while the more valuble items ventured farther into it's depths, away from the cold and the snow. That's where Ailia wanted to go. That's where the treasure trove really was.

And with her life at stake, Ailia really couldn't settle for the lesser items.

Twenty seconds...

Glancing around at the other tributes once again, Ailie looked for the familiar faces of her alliance. She spotted a hazy image of dirty blonde/brown looking hair that lead her to believe that she had found Archer, the District Two male of her alliance. She couldn't see him very cleary, as he was far away from her standing spot, but he seemed ready by his stance.

Good. It was his and Arbor's (who she was still a bit weary of) job to go seek out shelter for the current alliance.

Zinnia, Jeremy, and herself would stay back to fight in the blood bath. She would head straight towards them once the gong sounded--

{GONG!}

Ailia stepped out into the snow, her boots crunching against the icey slush as she sprinted across the snow-covered field. The plan was to immediately band together with Jeremy and Zinnia. And that was what she planned to do. It would be easier to fight off the others that way.

Casting her gaze around as she ran, Ailia kept a look out for her fellow alliance members.

It was about time they actually got this show on the road.

[Deleted]

Ruby

I step onto the metal plate slowly. I promise myself that I won't look back, that I'll hold my head high with confidence. Who knows how long I'll last? I could be dead. I could be gone within the next few minutes. But I can't think about death right now. I need to only think of survival. The plate lifts me up, and the first thing I see is pure white. Snow. Everywhere. I'm not too suprised. In fact, I was expecting snow when I got this uniform with the boots and a jacket. Claudius Templesmith's voice booms throughout the arena. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Let the 53rd Annual Hunger Games Begin!" I panic when I realize there's only 60 seconds left, 60 seconds until kids turn into killing monsters and trust no longer matters in this arena. I glance around me to understand the terrain a bit better. Then, I look around me to see what tributes are positioned near me. Iris is only two plates away on my left. In between us is Windy. Even though we had never really talked and she was no longer part of the alliance, I had always had a certain respect for Windy. To my right is Senia, the District 8 girl. She was another tribute that had earned that slim respect. I feel something cold on my chest, and I realize it's my district token, something I will refuse to loose. I remember how my brother had given it to me, the one day I felt as though life was perfect. I was safe, back then.
So was he.
But then he died.
I don't want to end I like him.
But if I do, is he waiting for me at this moment? To come live with him?

Just then, I realize there's only 30 seconds left now. I plan out where I'm going to go, what I'm going to do. I think of Noelle, who I know has her wide eyes, planted on the screen, as though she is the one about to die. In my head, I whisper goodbye to her, and I know she can hear me. I can see her, standing exactly in front of me. I want to run to her, but the wind slowly sweeps her shadows away. I can hear my heartbeat loud and clear as the last 5 seconds ring inside my head.

5...
If I am one of the first to die, I only hope that the victor is someone who truly deserves to win, someone who has a good heart, not a ruthless killing machine.

4...
I want to be remembered by my family, by District 7, by Noelle. I don't want to go unnoticed.

3...
I want to make a difference. I want to show the world who I really am. I know I can, if I live, but what are the chances?

2...
Slowly, I position myself. I am determined to let the Capitol know that I am more than what they think I am.

1...
I pray to God.
I say goodbye.

*Gong*
I leap off the plate, my feet leading the way.

[inFamousL]

Oz Myrrh:

Oz stood at his plate. He looked at his uniform and looked around. He saw everybody else. He knew that most of them were here to kill. Not most actually... ALL of them were ready to kill him. He knew that he was probably going to die. But he had to try. There was no other choice. His soft heart couldn't kill, but he could hide himself until he is obligated to end somebody's life. There was no way he wanted to die here. He didn't want to die at all.

{60 seconds left}

He looked up and saw the roof. This was a bloodbath. He knew it would be. There was no way to escape these games at all either. He was going to die! No way to live but to kill. In exchange for his own life, twenty-three others must be lost. And he might be part of the twenty-three.

{30 seconds left}

Oz remembered what his brother wanted him to do. To fight. Fight for his only life. There was nothing else he wanted him to do. Use his chemistry classes. Use his sword skills. What else was there to do? There was nothing he could possibly do. Oz's knees buckled but he kept his balance. Oz knew this was what he had to do.

{10 seconds left}

This was the only way to live. Nothing else. He must fight back with all his might, or he will die...

{5}
{4}
{3}
{2}
{1}

{GONG!}

Oz leaped off and sprinted as fast as he could. He had no choice, he needed to get a pack!

[Prenten]

I could hear the announcer. I wasn't listening, of course. I was focused on the games.
"...the 53rd Hunger Games, begin!" Was all I heard. I counted off the seconds.
Fifty
Ream, I love you. An image of her laughing in the fields sprung into my head.
Forty
Dad, I'm doing this for you. Another image, of Jackson Sichian came to mind. He was smiling.
Thirty
If I die... Wait. I won't.
Twenty
Okay, mind on the games. I looked over and saw a dark blue pack on a mound.
"That's mine." I growled, with a confident smile
Ten
I need to startle the others. A scream of some sort. Something that will wake the dead.
Five
I huffed in a breath. The air stung. I realized there was snow.
Four
This could be difficult... I wasn't accustomed to snow.
Three
No matter. I'll be okay.
Two
Here we go...
One
One more second...
GONG!
I leaped off the platform, and bolted for my bag. I looked for Windy and Senia. I saw Senia on the ground, unmoving.
"Already?" I spat. I watched as a kid named Ralph Hawk had his neck snapped by an unknown assailant. I was almost at the bag. I reached down and snatched it, running off toward something.... It looked like steam.
"Weapon." I muttered. I had realized somebody was tailing me. Their footsteps sounded light. Windy? I hoped it was. As I was running, I ripped open my bag, searching the contents. A hammer...
"Hammer!" I cried. Perfect! I knew how to use this! I took it out and armed myself. I slung the bag and continued running from my pursuer.


I had to get away....

[[Ree]craft]

(since i'm dying, i'd like to choose how it happens okay, and its not going to be by any of the tributes)

Senia
I have last minute indecision. Why am I doing this? Well, why am I? Because I want to live? Even hell would be better than my life, especially even if I win. Because there are people I love back home? Nope, no one. I hate district 8 and everyone there. And these thoughts just flood me with hate and anger, towards everyone, the capitol especially, because they ruined my life in every way possible. If my life was good back in District 8, maybe I would have motivation to live. It's not the killing. I could kill anyone in this arena. Anyone. It's just I don't think I want to win. I want to die so I don't have to look at life ever again.

Change of plans, I think bitterly as my seconds tick by. Funny, I'm not nervous or scared. I should have done this ages ago, but this way is better. This way it's televised. This way everyone can know what I'm doing. Maybe I'll trigger a rebellion. Who cares? As long as I can get away from this filthy place. Maybe there is an afterlife and dying will just be like falling asleep and I'll wake up somewhere better and purer. Somewhere free of the Hunger Games and of the Capitol. Maybe I can get a good afterlife in repayment for my good for nothing mortal life. I'm actually smiling now. I look around at my fellow tributes. I think they should all die. I think there should be only two left at the end and during that ending bloody battle, they should both die. I don't think anyone should live. If someone does live they should live tortured with the fact that they are the reason twenty three almost innocent people are killed. I'm not going to be that person. Winning these games would be like walking straight to the devil. I'm not doing that, and only a fool would. I am no fool.

I guess this means good bye world. Good for nothing world. Good bye, I won't miss you. I don't think you'll miss me either. Oh well, who cares? Who cares about anything? Dying is a lot better than I thought it would be. It's like being set free. I'm free, finally. Elation fills me up suddenly, so unexpected, but so wonderful. I'm actually happy for the first time ever. This is happiness. I grinning now, and I know many people will think I'm mad, but as I said earlier, who cares?

The gong goes off and instead of running away like I planned I run straight to the cornucopia. All I need is a knife. I dodge a battle fighting and finally yank out a knife. A nice knife, ornate silver with fancy carvings and a lethal tip that will soon be sheathed in my heart. How lovely to ruin such a beautiful thing. Well there's no time to waste, because I want to be the one to do it. Not someone else. At least I'll have one kill on my list. Me.

I'm still grinning as the beautiful silver blade slides into my heart, ends my life for once and for all. I barely feel it. Well, I am dead. I'm dead, I'm dead. I'm free. I'm dead, I'm free. I think of all the tributes down there still killing each other off. How lucky I am. I died without fear, and they will die scared and with no honor. And the winner will have no honor either. The winner will be corrupted. The winner will have ripped apart their soul in their fight to live, when really living is nothing compared to death. I have passed unremembered and uncared for by anyone. No one in District 8 will cry at my death. Not even my brother. That's not what I care about, and I am untouched by that thought. That one fact is the reason why I killed myself. My mad elation has only intensified by my death. No one can touch me now.

[aya]

Halt, Arbor C.

Despite the fact that he would have hated to admit it, Arbor was, in fact, anxious as he waited for the gong to sound, signifying the beginning of the end of his life. Still and sightless as a statue, he took in what he could of his surroundings.

As anticipated, they were in a gigantic outdoor arena. The frigid air burned Arbor's lungs with every breath he drew, and everything around him radiated coldness. He pulled the collar of his long-sleeved shirt over his nose and mouth, warming the air slightly and protecting the lining of his throat from the harsh weather.

Though no Games were particularly enjoyable, Arbor knew he would spend most of these completely miserable. He was already freezing, and he hadn't been outside for more than fifteen seconds. Hopefully his alliance would be able to secure some better warm-weather clothing.

He ran through the plan in his head, fighting the butterflies in his stomach for his focus. While his allies grabbed what supplies they could, he was to run in the opposite direction for a few hundred meters and wait for Archer to retrieve him. He didn't like having to be dependent on Archer to get him out of there, but in this foreign land with almost everyone aiming to kill him, it would be necessary for him to have a guide.

And out of his allies--Zinnia, Jeremy, and Alia--Arbor trusted Archer the most. It was Archer, after all, who invited him to join the alliance. Archer who kept him in the loop. Who seemed to genuinely care for Arbor's well being.

Of course, the whole alliance could easily be a trap. But there was nothing the scrawny blind kid could do about it but satiate his unease with the reasoning that there was absolutely no need for anyone to go through such elaborate lengths to kill him. He would be easily overpowered physically. In fact, if not for his alliance, he would likely be dead at the bloodbath anyhow.

He could be dead here, anyway. And in no more than ten seconds, he would find out. Arbor took a deep breath, steeling himself for the start of the Games. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, hammering out the seconds left.

nine-beat.
eight-beat.
beat-beat.
beat-beat.
five-beat.
four-beat.
beat-beat.
two-beat.
one--

GONG!

The chime sounded, and Arbor took three steps off his plate towards the Cornucopia, one boot catching on something as he made a u-turn and took off at top speed in the other direction. There was some pack looped around his right ankle, dragging in the snow behind him. Hearing being his best method of taking in the world, Arbor focused on the cacophony he generated: the crunch of snow underfoot, the scraping of the backpack that hitched a ride, air rushing past and in and out of his lungs, the persistent drumming of his heart against his ribs.

And then there was the din in the distance, too. Shouting, running, fighting, screaming, yelling, fighting, dying. Cannons. Somewhere in between the two rackets--the one Arbor himself made and the sound of the bloodbath in the distance--he placed a closer brawl: footsteps chasing after him, two sets. A body hitting the ground, lifeless, or about to be. Bang. "Arbor!"

That was Archer's voice, here to collect him. Arbor stopped where he was and pulled the backpack off of his ankle. He'd have time to inspect the contents later, but it seemed to have a decent weight to it as it was. Not too heavy, but not light. He fixed the straps on his shoulders and waited for Archer to catch up. He was safe, now, safe as he would be from the others. He had made it through the first two minutes of Games. He had already beaten the odds. But how long could that keep going?

[/color][/blockquote]

[Stare]

60...
I stare at the arena. I can't exactly say I'm glad to be here, but I can say it has what I need to survive.
Survive.
I love and dispise the word. Because 23 will not survive, and one of them could be me.
I look at my fellow tributes. My heart nearly falls apart when I think of how many of them will die. I know the pain in my eyes is easy to read.
I grip my hands into fists. It's always been my plan to run away from the Cornicopia. It's just not worth the risk.
50...
Most certainly, everyone in Panem is watching us. Waiting, the tension building.
But for me, it's wearing off. Confidence is seeping in. Along with something else. Adrenaline.
I've had this feeling before. I don't know where it comes from, but it's definately dangerous. For me, and anyone near me.
40...
In case I die... I need to say something worth while. Something no one will forget.
I think of what I said in my interviews.
I take a slow breath and open my mouth, waiting a moment so the cameras can find me.
"So, so sorry," I whisper.
30...
I'll put on a show for them, of course. Revealing my secrets, letting out my emotions. So they'll never forget who I am.
Jestina Lelborne, The Daydreamer.
That's really who I am. I didn't lie to the Capitol.
I just revealed what's been hiding inside me for a long, long time.
20...
I look towards the forest, where I'll be heading.
Of course, there are a few items I can pick up off the ground on my way there.
I think of everyone else's thoughts. Are they scared, unsure, or bloodthirsty? The thoughts they're having right now divide them.
Divide us.
10...
I look around, ready.
9...
I can almost fell the tension in the air of the other tirbutes.
8...
Some look just pure scared.
7...
Am I scared?
6...
No, I'm not scared.
5...
I'll never be scared.
4...
I'm ready.
3...
I've always been ready.
2...
This is my territory now. No one can stop me.
1...
I'm going home.
GONG!
I run off the metal plate, directly towards the woods.
The first thing I pick up on my way is a backpack. I stuff the other things I find on the ground into it as I run, not really paying attention to what I pick up.
Every moment, a knife could drive through my back, killing me.
But I don't scream. I'm silent, running as fast as I can.
The adreniline is racing through my veins, pushing me to go faster, until I don't feel my legs anymore.
I can't stop. I just keep going and going and going.
Finally, I reach the forest. At the edge, I pause.
I feel a need to turn around. To see what I've just left behind.
But no. I won't. I have the respect not to.
"Panem, I hope you're ready," I say. "The Daydreamer has some secrets she's ready to reveal."
And I silently slip into the forest.

[rizzo13]

Jeremy stood on the unmoving plate, thinking about what was about to happen and what he was about to see. He was going to see teenage kids killing each other as they rushed to the items that lay before them. It was sad how easily people played into their hands. Many children were about to die because of the sick minds of the Capitol. Although in his interview he had stressed that he loved them he really despised them and wished nothing more than for them to be damned to hell and suffer from eternity for what they had done.

Jeremy remembered his family as he drew in some deep breaths. He remembered a time when his mother was forced to explain the concept of The Hunger Games to him. As he began to think about it his hands clenched into fists and his mind swam with the ugly memory of the tone of her voice as she had said it. ”Jeremy,” she had said, ”The Hunger Games were made so that ….. they were made so that everyone could live. Remember those books that I used to read to you as a child? Where one of them would sacrifice themselves so the others could live. It is kind of like that.”

”But …. but mommy …... the people are getting hurt. They ….. they didn't do anything wrong! It isn't fair! Make it stop.”

”Oh, honey, I wish I could, but the truth is …... this is going to go on for a long time. It is going to go on for as long as you live and beyond that. I am so sorry,” she said said as she moved his hair from his face. He could almost feel her touch and he reached his hand up to his face to make sure that he was just imagining things. He felt no hand. No skin. She wasn't there with him. He was going to die and she was going to have to watch it happen.

Jeremy thought about the last time he had seen the district. He had seen crying, screaming, anguish, hate for the Capitol. It was incredibly sad but it was necessary. This wasn't a story book though. This was real life and there wasn't going to be a happy ending or a Happily Ever after. This was going to be brutal, terrible. This was going to be how he remembered life when he passed on into whatever afterlife there was. If there was one. Lately he had begun to doubt that there was a God. If there was he must hate him if he allowed all this to happen.

The plate began to rise and when it peeked over the ground he saw it. Everything. He saw the other tributes, the mountains, snow, lakes. It seemed as though they weren't actually trying to make it brutal on them. But there had to be a catch. Water poisoned? Snow, programmed to make you suffocate if it is swallowed. So many possibilities.

He saw all the people in his alliance and he actually felt relaxed. They seemed to be strong and confident so he needed to be as well. He heard the countdown just as it reached 20 seconds.

He was going to die.

10 seconds.

He was going to be murdered.

5 seconds.

He was never going to have a happily ever after.

4 seconds.

His mother was going to see him die.

3 seconds.

His mother was going to feel that she was to blame.

2 seconds.

But she wasn't, it wasn't her fault.

1 second.

It was the Capitol's and before this was over …... he was going to make sure that he did something to piss them off. He was going to ruin their rule. And then he heard it. The noise that would end his life.

He ran.

[Breeze-Chan]

Blue lent forwards when there was only twenty seconds left. She just wanted to get what she wanted to get and be gone. she tried to make her mind go blank, tried to clear her thoughts, but they where too muddled.

15

What was Shay, Tally, and Coy going to do without her? and not to mention that gang she joined. She was working on her report the night before she was Reaped. It should still be on her desk, waiting for her, even though she was never coming back. This was probably going to be her first, and last, stand against the Capitol. But she was going to go down fighting.

10

Her family was going to be forced to watch as she was killed. Would they even show her death? Or was it not going be interesting enough? Knowing her luck, she'll probably fall though the ice and drown.

5

Time seemed to slow down, the last five seconds taking forever to tick away.

GONG

Blue leapt forwards, pushing all thoughts from her mind.