Dearest Panem, welcome young and old to the first annual panem trials. we hope this year that here in the capitol we can make your hunger games viewing a success and give you a story to tell for ages to come. so sit back relax, root for your favorite and enjoy the bloodshed. may the odds be ever in your favor, your time will come panem. good luck tributes. were always watching.
the panem trials
Tributes you all need to resubmit who is in your alliance and where you are going to go in the arena, since about 50% of you didn't do this earlier. This will be due by Saturday at 11:59 PM CST, thank you.
Tributes, Citizens of Panem, the Capitol's special gift. Brenda.
“Yes, well, I suppose we can’t UN-dye it. That shit’s real expensive and if she should die, at least her hair will still be beautiful even in death.”
“But they specifically said she should look like the other—“
“I don’t care what they said. There’s no way we could possibly make her look like anyone else in the arena. She’s too modified. We don’t have the time.”
She groggily began to awaken but kept her eyes closed so she could listen to the conversation without them putting on a front for her. She knew these people too well. She knew their type. They’d smile and lie to your face and then turn away in disgust once they thought you weren’t looking. That’s what got her in trouble in the first place.
“Don’t you think we could at least remove the glitter? We don’t want her to be too intimidating to the other contestants.”
“The more intimidating, the better. She has to—wait.”
Shit. They know I’m awake. The girl opened her eyes and blinked at her stylists sweetly. “Good morning, Aquata! Where am I today?”
The two stylists exchanged glances. The first one, who had long, magenta fingernails and short hair that matched, said to her, “Honey, you’re not at work today. Remember? My name is Verez, and this is Gratidi. We’re styling you. We told you this yesterday. You’re going into the games with the other districts? Remember?”
She pretended that a rush of memories was coming back to her. “Oh, yes. Wishful thinking. I was just hoping that I was back at work. Well, hopefully soon, right?” She laughed lightly as Verez and Gratidi looked at each other sadly.
After that was a blur of exfoliating and waxing and covering up all the scars she had given herself from her “accident”. The same accident that got me here, she thought bitterly. She ran her fingers over the long, thin cuts that she had lovingly carved into her legs one last time before they disappeared forever, and memories actually did come to her:
She could barely even stand as she was escorted home that night. She was laughing too loudly and too much at every word that her butler was saying, and she knew that if she didn’t sober up soon, she’d be in deep with her parents, but she didn’t want to. She was young, effervescent and young, and it was going to last forever whether they liked it or not.
But they didn’t like it, and after they found her collapsed on the living room floor, choking on her own vomit, they called their personal ambulance and had her escorted to the hospital, where they pumped her stomach and implanted a chip in her stomach that all the older Capitol citizens had. Alcohol would no longer affect her the way that it affected the youth. It wouldn’t have the effect she wanted it to have. And in the days following, she began to feel different. She didn’t know was that they had also implanted an experimental chip in her brain that hadn’t been approved by the CMB yet, and they were using her as a test subject for this new chip that was supposed to help rid her of any negative feelings. How could she have known?
Over the next few days, she began to lose her grip on reality. She was feeling growing amounts of anger and on the fourth day after she got home from the hospital, she felt positively sadistic. She tried going to work each day, but the cats at the salon kept growing and shrinking out of proportion right before her eyes, and she could feel nothing but anger toward them. That night she went out and bought a machete at the vending machines on the outskirts of the Capitol and slashed her legs open. She has no idea how she got there, but she woke up in the hospital again the next day.
Since it was a federal offense to attempt suicide, they sentenced her to 90 hours of community service and she had to spend three weeks in jail. They gave her a night to say goodbye to her parents and to sleep in her own bed again, and then she would be carted off in the morning. But she wasn’t about to let that happen.
“Ow! Fuck!”
A particularly painful section of waxing jolted her from her reverie, and she came back to earth again. She tried to focus on the task at hand and watched her stylists as they applied purple eye shadow, lipstick, and blush to her face and they dressed her in a disgustingly plain T-shirt with the Capitol’s logo on the shoulder. They put her in tight-fitting pants and tennis shoes and gave her a backpack that also had the Capitol’s logo on it. She peeked inside and there was a plethora of food and several water bottles and—could it be? A spring cosh was in there as well! Gratidi winked at her. “For you. A gift from the Captiol.”
She stuck the cosh into her waistband where it could be pulled out and extended in milliseconds if she needed. She kissed both her stylists on the cheek and they accompanied her into a small room. Then they both started giving her rapid-fire instructions:
“The arena is an airport—“
“You’ve visited there before on school trips--”
“You’re a special tribute—“
“You’re going to be in the cockpit of the plane—“
“Don’t forget to find a place to stay—“
“Someone will enter that cockpit sooner or later so be prepared—“
“The other tributes don’t know you’re coming—“
“We love you, good luck!”
And then she was inside the tube and the platform was rising up and she could almost hear her parents screaming her name, screaming out in agony, screaming in pain—
And it was time. She looked around the cockpit. She knew this place. History was her favorite subject in school. She knew her way around an airplane. She looked around coolly at her surroundings and heard the countdown echoing throughout the arena. She looked out the window and saw them. Pathetic.
Suddenly the countdown was over and they were all running toward the plane. She ducked down so that they wouldn’t see her purple and blonde hair through the window, not that they would be looking for it. Luckily the room she was in was confined. She heard the scuffling outside the door of the cockpit and wondered who would enter first.
She heard a lot of screaming and a lot of collision, and she wondered who would be the first to die, and who would be the first to kill. She wanted to be the first to kill, she wanted it so badly…
She readied her spring cosh and moved stealthily to the other side of the door. Whoever opened it wouldn’t see her when they came in. And come in they did.
A short girl with brown hair and below-average features flung the door open in distress. She had with her a black backpack, and she never even saw the girl with purple hair. She was dead the second that the metal baton hit her head. The girl with purple hair smashed her head in so quickly that this poor little girl from District 9 didn’t even have a chance to scream. Emily, she thought. That was her name.
The girl with purple hair grabbed the black backpack and rummaged around in it for supplies. An empty water bottle, some matches, and a tiny razor blade. She took the matches and put them into her backpack, but paused over the razor blade. Did she want to do this?
Yes, she did.
She took the razor blade and, just to ensure herself that the girl was actually dead, carved her name into the girl’s neck. A name that she knew would strike fear into the hearts of the other tributes once they learned it.
And, with that, Brenda exited the plane. She stepped onto a hard surface, it wasn’t the same as the Cornucopia, the poor girl was so terrified of the Bloodbath she sprinted across the bridge and sought refuge inside another airplane on the runway. She thought she would be safe; but the Capitol had a Tribute of their own.
Clara vs. Donny vs. Matt vs. Ralph vs. Tyrell vs. Veronica x
"Tributes, it appears that nobody has decided to go for the same weapon as you. We could have left it at this but we thought it would be more fun, the Capitol wants an excellent show this year. As you may notice your bodies are frozen, but in due time you will be back to full form and able to complete your first task. As you may notice the exits of the plane are slowly closing sealing the six of you inside. The doors to the plane will not open until there are there are three Tributes dead. May the odds be ever in your favor."
As you run away from the Cornucopia to your new destination you hear nine cannons go off. You look into the sky and see the deceased, you shake it off, your glad its not you. Wether you killed anybody or not the games have officially started.
Tributes you have until Tuesday September 18th by 11:59 p.m. CST to submit where you are going to go next in the arena. Go to the Arena tab and email us ([email protected]) where you decide to go.
I would love to be involved in the next trials if there ever comes once! I assume its sort of like a group roleplay? If so, I'd love to join!
Yes there will be another one. Yes it is a group roleplay where the Tributes each write about killing eachother. You can probably understand better once The Bloodbath is released, which will be sometime next week.
As you were standing with your stylists about to venture into the arena a service announcement from the Capitol was given to all of Panem. It was a recap of your Training Scores, clips of you and the other Tributes in the Training Center, and your interview.
Your family and friends watched you as you whisked your way into charming the Capitol with your allure in order for you to gain Sponsors which could very well help you to survive this brutal task. When your interview replays on the screen back at home in your district the town is dead silent. They want you to win, for their safety too. Winning the Hunger Games meant food, and not having to fight to survive.
As the other Tributes interviews flash vividly across the screen the citizens of your District look at each other once more. It's the same as every year, last year you were doing the same thing, watching the interviews picking the weak from the strong, but this year was different. Your District knew that their Tributes had a fighting chance for survival.
You take one last look into your stylist’s eyes; they brush the side of your cheek with their thumb. “Good luck out there.” Your palms begin to sweat; as your heart begins to beat faster you look at yourself in the mirror. Your stylist has given you a tightly fitted t-shirt with your District’s emblem on the left shoulder. You brush the emblem with your hand “Home”, if only you could depart from this hell and be back. The thought lingers in your mind when you are told by your stylist to move to the platform.
You slowly walk towards the tube that will lift you to the arena. You step inside the tube and the door immediately seals shut. It’s quiet inside the tube; you start to panic and start to breathe deeply in and out, in and out. Your stylist presses their hand against the glass tube and you place yours next to it. The last Capitol citizen you will ever have to see, unless you win, the thought actually makes you happy.
“30 seconds”
You look over towards the wall and you now see a timer counting down. You clench your stomach and you begin to sweat.The tube slowly starts to move upwards. The tube slowly becomes covered in darkness, inch by inch. Your stylists shimmering eyes are the last things you see as you are surrounded by complete darkness.
The tube makes its way upwards, it’s a longer ride than you had thought. You finally see a light peaking from the top, you slowly climb towards the light.You breathe in and you smell a slight ocean breeze “Great” you think quietly to yourself, “Another arena surrounded by water” but as the tube slowly rises you are able to peak your head out.
You see the other Tributes rising at the same pace you are, the time had finally arisen to where you would have to start killing, or be killed.You glance around towards your surroundings, it was in fact surrounded by water, but the arena was completely covered with land.
You are puzzled, you aren’t quite sure what the arena actually is, you haven’t seen it before in your days as a Panem Citizen.Whatever the matter was, you were there for one thing and one thing only, to survive.
Your eyes pace side to side to look for the Cornucopia. All 24 tributes were facing what appeared to be an airplane. “No Cornucopia this year” the thought sickens your stomach. A voice booms throughout the arena, it’s Theseus’s,
“Tributes, this years arena is something from our deep past.It is something that people from around the world went to travel to different places. Much like the hovercrafts we have now, but much slower.It is what they called an Airport.You all may be worried that there is no Cornucopia this year, but however there is. As you look towards the center of this field you will see what they called an airplane. Inside is where all of the tools you will need to survive will lie. Good luck Tributes, May the odds be ever in your favor. You have 60 seconds.”
The timer beats down.
Your mind begins to race; all of the weapons are inside of this… plane?You can see that the airplane looks small; they are expecting lots of blood.You look over towards your alliance; they look just as puzzled as you. The timer clicks down,
10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…
You jump off of your platform and sprint towards one of the entrances towards the airplane.
Inside of the Airplane lies 13 weapons:
Black Chained Whip
Black Sickle
Golden Bow and Six Arrows
Silver Kusari Gama
Golden Trident
Six Black Throwing Knives
Silver Baselard
Black Throwing Axe
Silver Bladed Boomerang
Golden Spetum
Golden Hammer
Silver Dagger
Silver Bear Claws
Outside in the field surrounding the airplane lays 6 bags:
Red Backpack
Orange Backpack
Yellow Backpack
Green Backpack
Blue Backpack
Purple Backpack
Some important facts that you will need to know:
There are 4 entrances to the airplane, you can leave and exit whichever one you please.
You may select one weapon, and one bag.
The weapons are dispersed evenly throughout the plane.
More information will be given when the time comes.
Tributes please email [email protected] with the weapon and bag, or weapon, or just the bag, or if you choose to run away from the Cornucopia also the entrance you will be using (1, 2, 3, or 4) by Monday September 10th, by 11:59 PM Central Standard Time. You will receive an email with who you are fighting by Tuesday September 11th. More information will be given in due time. Good luck Tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favor.
Scores will be released late tonight due to the Gamemakers required attendance at the Tribute Appreciation Ball. We are sorry for the inconvenience but at least you have your Interviews to work towards. Good Luck Tributes.
You stand backstage eagerly awaiting for the Tribute before you to be finished, you take a deep breath as you hear "Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome our next Tribute!" As you walk forward you glance outwards towards the audience, you see the typical Capitol citizens in their bizzarre clothing and styles. You make eye contact with a small woman with the most beautiful facial features you have seen. She was not like the rest of the Capitol, and you could tell that, she had long blonde hair with purple streaks and a smile that almost looked deadly. You still are looking into her eyes as you sit down next to Caesar.
Caesar is wearing purple this year, must be a trend, his teeth are whiter than ever and he actually looks like he is having a good time. You look out towards the Capitol audience one more time and you can hear some of them chanting your name. What a glorious feeling. Caesar breathes out cooly, you can smell the roses on his breath, and begins to ask you a series of questions.
For your Interviews please answer the following questions. You can either list them out one by one or write it in a narrative form. Please note that this is to help build your character and your answers may or may not effect you in the arena. Please note this is also NOT a mandatory situation but it will help you gain more Sponsor Points.
What would you say is your greatest fear?
Who do you think your biggest competition is?
Is there anyone back at home you would like to say something to?
What is your favorite fast food restaurant?
Which past arena was your favorite?
Random question: (you makeup the question)
If you could have anything you desired from the Bloodbath what would it be, and why?
Describe yourself in three words: (this will help develop your character)
You have until Saturday, September 8th at 11:59 pm Central Standard Timezone. We hope you take the time to do this, as it will be very helpful in the arena.
While the 23 other tributes and yourself have spent your time this weekend relaxing in the many luxuries that the Capitol has had to offer one image crosses your mind, home. Home? Why has home crossed your mind, it’s not like you could take flight and go back, your fate has already took a turn for the worse, or the better only time can tell, which is the mystery of it all. 23 people stand in your way for victory, or the ever unfortunate failure, resulting in your death. You take a look at the clock on the wall, and back over to your district partner. They are watching the recap of the reaping’s once again, both of your pictures flash across the screen and they turn around making direct eye contact with you. You stare into each others eyes for a few moments, wondering who will look away first, but you can’t, no matter what happens in the arena both of you know that one of you has to make it home, for the health and safety of your district, but the fact that they or even you could be gone the very next day lingered in your head. Alas 23 other tributes are thinking this exact same thing and of you will be the winner, so who could it be?
The thought still lingering in your head, a voice breaks the silence coming from the walls, “Tributes, please make your way down to the Training Center for your private sessions.”
You make your way down to the hallway where you meet the other tributes once again. It’s much different this time, you’ve had your general training sessions, and your private session with your mentor, but the last thing standing in your way to show your strength and wits is this. Your name is called and you walk into the Training Center. You lookup towards the Gamemakers, they give you a slight nod and a faint smile and you begin to show them all you have.
As you look into the distance you see the same Training Center you have seen through your past couple of days but much emptier. You look to your left and see a wall lined with replicated dummies of the 24 tributes, to the left of that you see a ropes course, and a pool. You glance over towards your right and see the various stations where you learned about various plants you could find in the arena, and how to light a fire without any matches. Your footsteps echo across the empty building as you pick up your weapon of choice.
A voice booms through the empty room, “Try and impress us”.
Tributes, you have until Thursday, September 6th to submit your private training session. You have 20 minutes inside to show off your strengths, please keep it as realistic as possible, endurance wise and in a timely matter. Remember your score will effect how many sponsor points you will receive, as well as if you impress Ariadne and Theseus enough your actions could possibly result in your weapon laying inside of the Cornucopia. You have until 10:30 PM to submit your training by email to [email protected], you also must do this under 2500 words and please write this in a third person point of view. Good luck tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favor.
Tributes if you still have not confirmed your spot please do so soon and add theseuskillstributes and gm-ariadne on skype, or message us here! Thank you!
theartofmadeline
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
yousharknotpass
areudirty
prguitarman
discoholicmusic
stormborns
ellievsbear