yellow flicker :://:: [Zeki Webb & Quartz Caplin]

[ali]

[googlefont="Pacifico:400"]

Kolton Enim

The first night in the training centre- a large glass building which will be my final home for the next week before I’m thrown into hell to slowly watch my bones burn off my body until there is nothing left- I do not sleep at all. Perhaps I do, I don’t really remember. The bed was large, comfortable beyond belief- it was almost like sleeping on a cloud but yet, it was too comfortable. Too warm with the large, feather stuffed quilt and too cold without it; I drowned in the covers even though I barely moved a muscle, somehow I got the sheets entangled with my arms and after rolling over onto my side, I found my face pressed between the two pillows and I had to roll again so that I was lying on my back. I watched the ceiling until it was dawn, or at least until I blinked and sun sifted between the blinds. I sat up, rubbing my face. Ripred knows what time it was, I didn’t both checking the digital clock that projected itself into thin air above the bedside table beside me; whatever time it was I knew I wasn’t getting back to bed. Standing, I made my way to the en suite bathroom which I could call my own for a week. The bathroom alone was bigger than my own house, and consisted more than a singular metallic sink and a broken ceramic toilet. In fact, in this bathroom there were two sinks and two toilets- at least I thought there were two. The second looked more like a sink which was lower down and had the same shape as the toilet but I didn’t know what it was for, so I didn’t touch it, and I didn’t bother asking. There was a bath and a shower too, they were metallic, sleek and the shower was closed behind a frosted pane of glass. Throwing off my pants, I stepped into the shower, my body shivering in the harsh air as I tried to figure out how to turn the thing on. It took me a while, but soon a wave of warm water rained over my face causing me to sigh heavily as it warmed me from the inside out. I just stood there, under the showers water like a dumb idiot until my skin creased and crinkled under the weight of the water. I didn’t care for soap, not that I knew what was what anyway- the soaps and shampoos were all in similar metallic containers- it was just nice to feel clean water run over every inch of my skin without me having to worry about getting sick from it. Gingerly I pumped one of the soaps into my hand and washed myself before I got out and get myself dressed for today. The uniforms we are required to wear for the training sessions are tight fitting, yet they are comfortable to move about it. The fabric feels odd between my fingers, rough and smooth at the same time. Whatever it’s made of, it clings to my body. I take a look at myself in the mirror and cringe slightly- though the black fabric is, what our stylist would call slimming, it makes me seem too small. If I look close enough, I can see the indents which are my ribs. This last winter was a hard one for me- I never go without food most nights but this year was different, a backlash from the drought that District 11 suffered some time ago. I glance at the lower half and realize that I could be right about it being a bit too slimming. I grimace before I head down for breakfast. With breakfast over, a silent and awkward affair, I made my way down to the training centre alone. Gaia was quiet, barely touching any food. Not sure why but that didn’t stop me eating so much food that I swore I was about to burst; I probably ate half my weight in strawberry’s. I regret eating so much because the lift jerks downwards, falling through the air like a bullet out of a gun and I feel my stomach begin to churn uncomfortably. I clutch the railings on the side to steady myself and to prevent myself doubling over and vomiting all over the floor of the elevator. As much as my stomach yearns to do it, I don’t want to make the Avoxes clean up after me- especially not my vomit. Finally the elevator halts on the bottom floor- the basement- of the training centre’s building. I expect it to be dark, dank and lonely down here but when the two doors open, I am almost blinded by the clean sharp lights that hang over head. The room is filled with busy, excited people and there is an odd feeling in the air which makes me feel pumped to pick up a weapon and try something new; for a moment I wonder if the Capitol pump something into the air to make everyone get an adrenaline high. I walk across the floor, looking round at all the things to do. Some brute of a boy, possibly the tribute from 2, is hitting a dummy with a sword which is easily twice the size as me. I grimace as I see the stuffing being spat out from whether the sword striked- the swords are blunted, so my District mentor tells me and it makes me dread to think what he could do with a sharpened one. I move on, meandering through all the people and past the stations. I notice something out the corner of my eye- a blond boy, the tribute from 5, busy working away at starting a fire. At least, attempting to start a fire. I watch as he struggles to get the kindling to light- his hands fumbling over the match as he desperately tries to light it. He seems frustrated, and annoyed that he isn’t able to light the fire. Glancing around, I walk over to the fire making station. I see that there are a variety of woods, mosses and other things you could make a fire out of- there is even some tar and a cloth. I notice a box of dried peat at one end of the training station. I stand behind the boy, watching for a moment before I make myself known “You know,” I say “You’re better off using peat or the leaves as a fire starter- they burn more quickly”

Will

[Will]

.: ZEKI WEBB :.
{district five : 69th tribute}

After the train, everything is a blur. Emotions, emotions, emotions. That's all I see. I didn't see any Capitolites who were supposedly screaming and cheering my name. I didn't see the quiet little Avoxes who supposedly fed us dinner and carried out any and all of our whims. I didn't see the TV which was playing the video feed of the reapings only a short time ago. I didn't see any of it. It was just a blur, a haze. I think it started when we neared the Capitol. Yes, it did. Because the last thing I remember is the gorgeous, glittering city as the bullet train sped over an equally glittery body of water. That's really all I remember. There are a couple faces and objects that appeared through the haze, but not nearly enough for me to care.

Now I exit the haze. I'm in a room. My room. I remember that much. Someone told me it was my room. One of the Avoxes? No. Of course not. They don't have tongues. They can't talk. Maybe it was Patricia or Lethe or something. Anyway, I'm in this room and the bed is so comfortable. I don't want to leave it. The cushions, the sheets, the mattress. It's like God specifically sent them down from Heaven so I could lie myself down on them for this week and this week only. Maybe Satan sent them from Hell, then. If I can only use this for a week. Unfortunately, I know that I cannot stay here because I hear movement outside of my room and the delicate rays of light coming from the sun (or maybe they're artificial, you can never tell with the Capitol. Or so I'm told) are beginning to beam through my window and cast the ghosts of shadows across the carpeted floor. I muster up all of my will power and pull myself from the sheets and sit up with my legs hanging off of the side of my bed.

That movement took more out of me than I expected. That's not good. What if that means I'm too weak to even train?! What if that means that if I do train, I'll be sore from all the muscle I build and will be too sore to compete in the Hunger Games?!

I can't think like that. I shake my head and look down at my feet. That's when I realize I'm not wearing the same clothes I was wearing yesterday. I'm actually not even qualified as clothed, am I? I'm in underwear and some pure white T-shirt. That's embarrassing.

I get up and take a very long, hot shower. So long that I decided to lie down because I got tired of standing. I'll just blame it on being tired from waking up. Eventually, someone knocks on my door and when I leave the bathroom there are clothes already layed out for me on my bed. They're the training clothes. I put them on and they're very comfortable. They conform to my body, but not so tightly that it's uncomfortable. They are quite slimming. And thankfully there're no embarrassing bulges.

I eat breakfast, stuffing myself to the brim with delicious Capitol food. I thank the Avox as I leave to go to the training floor. The elevator is a fun ride. I watch through the glass as everything happens. It's just so incredible! This time in the Capitol so far has not been in the least bit depressing. I could get used to this. But I can't.

When I arrive at the training floor, there isn't too much happening. I look at all of the stations. God knows how I need to learn how to fight for the Hunger Games. I can fight, like anyone can. But I'm no Career. But everyone knows that even though the Hunger Games is famous for its gore and violence, the real way to stay alive is to know how to survive. And although I know it's an incredibly obvious form of survival, I do need to know it. I head over to the fire making station, where there are many confusing materials before me. I grab the first thing that looks flammable to me and take a match and start striking it. It won't light.

Finally I get a match to light (after going through a couple) and I try lighting the stuff in front of me. The match keeps going out every time I put it into the kindling. It becomes increasingly embarrassing as more and more tributes pour into the training center.

I'm started suddenly as a voice behind me says, "You know, you’re better off using peat or the leaves as a fire starter- they burn more quickly."

I look up and turn around. There's a tall, rather thin boy with light brown hair standing there. He looks down somewhat disapprovingly. He also seems a little nauseated. I wonder if that's because he's been watching me fail for longer than I think he has. I recognize his face. Probably from the haze somewhere. I'm assuming from the Reaping videos. I don't know which district he's from, but something tells me he's not here to mock me.

Wait a second! I think. Did I just get a gut feeling?

That might come in handy. That will come in handy. Especially here in the Games. I stand up to look him in the eye, look back down at the supplies I left on the floor, then make eye contact with him again.

I hate to ask a question. It shows that I'm not as knowledgeable as the other person. I hate it when people know things that I don't. But there's no sense in denying help when it's being offered. I'm not an idiot.

"What's peat?" I ask, a little sheepishly.

{table by zoë}

[jess]

q u  a  r  t  z   c  a  p  l  i  n

THIS DREAM ISN'T FEELING SWEET

"FIGHT FIRE WITH FIRE," that was always what my mother had said before she died. I never understood the saying - why fight something with the exact same weapon? You would never get anywhere cause they were the same. Water beats fire so you'd use water to extinguish the flames and win; I thought it was simple and that she just didn't get it. No matter how many times Aqua tried to explain it to me, and how many times she lost her temper, I never believed that the saying was true.

I was still like that now, denying every little thing that I didn't think was right. Could I never accept that I was wrong? About pretty much everything - my attitude towards people, the way I talk, the way I walk, everything is wrong. I refuse to admit to that - I'm right, definitely right. I can only think of one time I was right-

When I realized I was going to die.

I accepted my death, unlike some of the tributes here, working so hard to train and get better and be better because they have at least a small smidgen of hope of their victory. The strong ones are intimidating, stronger than me, heavier, taller, defined muscles and death glares. The weaker ones are the ones I feel safer around, so I stick to the normal stations. The ones where the big, bulky people never went.

The fire-making station was one of them, calm and peaceful usually during the day. The sound of flickering flames brought a sort of calming feeling to me, and it made my muscles relax and I let myself be hypnotized by the flames.

Just dancing freely, left to right, some sparks flying off the top and landing on the floor before disappearing.

It reminds me of the fireplace back home. We used to sit, in front of the fireplace in our places, our own reserved spaces where nobody else sat because it was ours. Mine was on the velvet armchair closest to the heat, the flames flickering right before my eyes and the sound soothing me. Jet sat cross-legged on the floor, usually closer the window, closer to the cold of the outside world. Ripred knows why he wanted to be that cold all the time. Cold was bad, cold was the outside world and the outside world was scary. The warmth of the fireplace was the only thing that made me feel comfortable.

I wasn't completely comfortable now, but this fire would have to do. I don't like how there are other people. Complete strangers, any of which could be my killer. Who, of all these people, would kill me? Who would end my life right there in the arena so close, yet so far away from now? Who knew what the arena was like - a frozen kingdom, a burning desert, anything in between.

Whatever they threw at me, I'd take it. I'd die anywhere - I'd die right now if they needed me to do. They could do whatever they wanted.

My life was in their hands.

Although I needed some comfort. Something to make me feel closer to home, even if home was now sold out to someone else, some other family sitting in front of the fireplace I once loved, someone else sleeping in my bedroom, looking out the window to the silvery moon just like I always used to do at night. I never closed the curtains - I loved the way the moon illuminated my entire bedroom, casting a blue, silvery light over my room. It was mesmerizing.

There was the community home; a horrible place full of horrible people, the types of people I didn't like and usually avoided but I couldn't here because it was home now. Home forever. Until I was old enough to leave, which would be never now - I would never be older than sixteen. Never, never, never older.

Corpses aren't like humans, obviously. They never age. They rot and decay underground, slowly becoming lost and forgotten memories until nothing remains but the name engraved in the stone slab.

The name would be the only memory left. Quartz Caplin.

Killed by one of these people.

Dead. Gone. Buried underground and forgotten.

That would be my future, like the majority of the tributes. 24 went in each year, and only one reigned superior above all else, earning the crown and the glory. Unlike most people from my district, I didn't want the crown. Anyone here could have it but me. I didn't deserve any crown, I didn't deserve victory or glory or fame or riches. I was just some little orphan brat, the one nobody liked, the one nobody would miss.

And for once, I didn't mind. Because now I could die knowing the world will be a little better without me. Jet and Aqua will be strong, I just know it. And I can join Mum and Dad wherever you go after you die. Or lie and rot forever. Either way was okay with me, as long as it was done.

But enough of these silly thoughts and daydreams. Death was coming soon, I could feel it. But for now, I was safe in this training centre, staring down at the flames. I must have looked pretty weird, in a trance like that.

But who are they all to judge me? We're all in the same situation here.

I saw two boys over in the same station as me, one of them trying to light some things on fire and the other advising him on what to do. I caught the last thing the boy said, the one trying to light the fire, and I heard: "What's peat?" I edged closer towards them, remembering being told by someone, probably Father who loved fires, what peat was.

"Peat is a material consisting of partly decomposed vegetable matter forming a deposit on acidic, boggy, ground, which is dried for use in gardening and as a fuel," I stated, repeating exactly what Father told me on that unforgettable day - the day we started being taught about the outside world, the thing I feared the most. There was so much to learn about nature and wildlife and what lurked in the wilderness, only we weren't allowed out in the wilderness because there was a big electric fence around it.

"At least, that's what my dad told me." I added that onto the end because I didn't want to seem like a know-it-all. I didn't really know how to talk to people other than Aqua and Jet so this was pretty scary. Usually when we went out before Mother and Father died I hid behind them half the time until they forced me to come out and talk to someone.

I would have talked to a crowd of thousands just to get my parents back again, but it doesn't work like that. So I deal with it, like I should. Like I've always been told to.

template by Chelsey

sorry that it's a terrible post, i rambled on quite a bit ^.^ also if there's something wrong with the definition lemme know cause i just googled it lmao

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

There's nothing that Dj would love more then to wake up back in District Three. Everything's felt surreal thus far, leaving the possibility not that unrealistic... Right? Just keep it as a vivid dream, and gratitude that she'll never have to enter an Arena. But before she even opens her eyes, she knows she's not back home. This bed is far too comfortable, and there's no loud base playing from downstairs. It's nothing but the sweet surrounding of the Capitol, and she couldn't despise it more.

Least she doesn't have to deal with District Three hoes, and with that she forces a smile upon her cheeks. No point in resenting what's going on, she has to remind herself of that. Today she gets to eat her heart out, not to mention the opportunity to play with all the stuff the Capitol has to offer. She's determined to continue making the best out of this all. And with that in mind she pretends that she doesn't want to miss a second of it. She only has so long here after all. There's no time to be fearful over her future, nor sleep with her busy mind.

Any button she comes across, she pushes. Turns out she doesn't even have to leave her room to have breakfast; a grateful relief after last night's dinner. Apparently the two stylist don't appreciate her sense of humor, which she sums up to being just a Capitol personality flaw. Her jokes won't win over sponsors here, probably best to remember that tip. Soon enough she's traveling to the elevator in hopes of gaining some more useful advice.

It's sort of pathetic to see how everyone's dressed identically, making Dillon tempted to go back to change out of this tight attire. Her red hair sticks out enough though, and something tells her she's not allowed anyways. Just have to try to blend in; and who knows, maybe that's best.

For a while she simply strolls around each station, debating over which would be most useful in her short time here. Seems like every year Tributes are setting their weapons on fire somehow, that sounds like a logical place to start. Plus who doesn't have a little pyromaniac in them? With nothing to lose, that's exactly where she decides to head next-or should we say, first.

Being among the setup nature is surprisingly nice. It's nothing but concrete and buildings within district three. A patch of grass, or single flower is a rare site to see there. Yeah, knowing how to make a fire is starting to seem more and more valuable given her position. Already there's a small group of three attempting to learn this very thing, wonder if they'd be able to help. Dj never was the type to learn from adult, then again she was always just too stubborn to be taught by anyone outside of her group. Guess now would be the best time to drop that attitude.

"No gasoline? That'd really start it up." She comments in when things fall silent between them all. That's the only way she was taught to light things up, though it wasn't really for a peaceful campfire...she's not the best at picking out the right type of friends.

[ali]

[googlefont="Pacifico:400"]

Kolton Enim

The boy, crouched around the little pile of sticks, turns and looks up at me with a startled, surprised look on his face. The boy is blonde, fair haired and pale skinned. I find it funny that most people from my home District of 12 are darker skinned than most, with darker hair that ranges from dirty blondes to black, while as other Districts are more of a mix. A hodge podge of lighter skins and darker, though I found most of the Career District were blonde. The boy from 5 was probably my age, he seemed it as he stood up, giving me the eye as he did. He was about my height, so there was nothing to say he wasn't. "What's peat?" The boy asks, as if he is ashamed about asking a question. I refrain from chuckling, and simply smile. It is clear that not everywhere is like 12. Where people have to burn anything they own just so that they don't freeze to death in their sleep. Fire is more important to us that food during the winter. Fire is important to marriages too- but I won't be able to experience that ceremonial lighting of a fire and toasting bread over it with someone I love. I sigh slightly, remembering everything about my home in one solid flash. It wasn't much, District 12, it was nothing like the Capitol or perhaps the other District, but at least it was home.  I am about to respond to the boy, as I make a move to head to the box with the peat in when someone answers the question for me, before I even have chance to breath. I frown a little and turn to the stranger who had, somewhat, butted in on our conversation. By the detail and length of their answer, I assume their a career. Bred and trained to be a killing machine; the Careers tend to be skilled in everything from fighting to knowing how to turn your piss into drinkable water. I am about to turn round and make some, sarky joke about Careers being know it all but I stop.  It is a girl who stands behind me, quiet timid. She is tiny, I have to look down at her just so I can see her face. The girl, blonde haired, wears similar outfits to us but I can tell she is no Career. She seems to fragile, to skinny, almost skeletal- too weak to have been training in a center since she could walk. Her skin is pale, almost a sickly pale. If I didn't know any better, I could of said she was from twelve. There was no way she was from 1 or 2, no way would someone be too poor to feed themselves. The girl is pretty, very pretty, I'll give her that. I blink, expecting to turn back to the boy and tell him she's right but as I turn my head, I glance at her again.  "No gasoline? That'd really start it up." says a voice, over the awkward silence that had befallen the little group.  I glance away from the blonde girl for a moment to see that another has approached us. She seems pretty laid back, chill almost; though I can't help but notice the fire truck red hair she is sporting and I wonder if she too is from a career district, but like the blonde, she doesn't exactly fit the stereotype. She was small too, but slightly fitter than the blonde she stood beside but she was just as pale- it made her red hair stand out even more than it should have.  I chuckled slightly at the red heads comment "We want to start a camp fire...not set the training center on fire" I nod at the blonde girl, looking at the boy from "She's...." I go to say that the blonde girl is right but I feel rude not saying her name so I pause briefly, turning to her "Sorry..whats your name?"

Will jess Cameo {RIP Charlie}

[Will]

.: ZEKI WEBB :.
{district five : 69th tribute}

I am shocked at the sudden change in the population of the fire starting station. I thought it was just myself, then up popped a boy, then the second I turn around two girls materialized. I guess that means either the fire starting station is extremely popular, or I am. And I know it's not the latter. But I have a feeling that maybe this whole gathering had something to do with me. Maybe it didn't. Maybe the boy would've come over here if I was excelling at lighting a fire. I don't know. But it doesn't really matter now. We're all here.

We're all here on day one. This is actually working out extremely well. I've met four people on the first day in just the first few minutes of training. The perfect amount for an alliance. Maybe I could make some friends. Despite what Patricia says about not needing any friends to win the Hunger Games, I can't imagine that it's a bad thing to have some allies.

The boy who I asked the question asks what the girl who gave the definitions name is.

Why just hers? He doesn't even know mine. Or maybe he does. I recognize all of these people. I just am not totally sure on their names. The haze from last night is too powerful. But the girl who blurted out a seemingly dictionary-worthy definition of peat rings a bell to me. She is a Career. I know that much. I remember she was the first face I saw. That much I can remember. And her name started with a strange sound. It was a sound not commonly used in names. I think maybe her name was the same as some luxury item. Of course it was. Anyone from District One has the name of something luxurious. But her's was a rock. Some kind of pretty rock.

And the red-head. I recognize her too. I don't remember her district, but I definitely remember her. Nobody in the districts has red hair, but she does. So naturally her face would stick out of the haze. Or at least her hair. And her name...I remember something funny about it. Something about it being...I can't remember. Oh well.

I interrupt any speech that might be about to happen and insert my own question and answer.

My name's Zeki," I say, knowing that the question wasn't directed at me. "I'm the boy from District Five. What are you guys' names?"

{table by zoë}

[jess]

[googlefont="Francois One:400"]

QUARTZ CAPLIN

district one female in the 69th hunger games

Throughout my whole life, people had looked down on me - the Careers back home, staring down at me and wondering why I'd never decided to train. People used to grab my arms and ask where the muscle was, they used to call me skinny or 'just a bag of bones'. I could never defend myself when the boys back in school started beating me up, because I didn't have the muscle that you get from years of being a Career. I hated it so much when people looked down, or even looked up but still with the same expression of narcissism; you can tell they think they're better.

That's how I feel now, when the boy from Ripred knows what district started to stare down at me. I could tell he wasn't one of the Careers, so who was he to stare at me like that? Almost like he wasn't expecting me to look the way I did. The big number '1' on my back, on the training clothes, was concealed from them because I was facing them, so they probably thought I was some sickly girl from the lower districts. I certainly looked the part.

Just as I was about to ask him what the hell he thought he was looking at, he started talking. He was addressing the redhead who had decided to join us with some clever comment about gasoline. Then he turned back to me, asking what my name was. So he looked down on me then asked my name - maybe I was just reading into this too much and being too harsh. I decided to tell him. "Quartz Caplin." I said my full name a bit too quickly, squeezing it together so it sounded like 'Quartzcaplin'. 

The other boy, the one who didn't know what peat was, piped up and told us all his name and district - Zeki Webb, District Five male. Well, the male part was quite easy to tell. I looked up at him and said, "I'm Quartz, from District One." Maybe now the boy from before would finally understand.

And my parents used to wonder why I was anti-social; maybe because every time I tried to make friends, they judged me. Nobody wanted to talk to me - they'd talk to my sister, and they'd have to be kind enough to me because Aquamarine wanted them to, but nobody really liked me. Like, as in friends and stuff. I didn't know what it was like to have a friend, and this is the nicest everyone's been to me. Just by simply asking my name. 

Maybe something would come from this besides an educational lesson on fire fuel. Maybe an alliance was in the makes here - or maybe I was just too caught up in my own daydreams again. As usual.

OOC Notes

table by anzie