[ PHILLIPA SOO, CIS FEMALE, SHE/HER. ] well, if it isn’t raicheal t'ang, our resident ASSISTANT GAMEMAKER ! i’m so excited to see what they’ll be bringing to the table this year. they’re thirty-two years old, & they’ve been in this position for three years. i hope they’re ready for the publicity — the tabloids have already started talking about them ! anyways, i got to meet them once, & they’re a lot like pearl necklaces, red bottom stilettos, a wicked smile, an ironically innocent voice, & hoop earrings.
raicheal was adopted by her uncle and aunt because her birth mother was not mentally fit to raise her.
she was an only child was spoiled tremendously by her family, and was given everything she ever wanted
the hunger games was her favorite thing. she could talk about it all year long, all day long. she made it her business to know everything in front and behind the scenes
after college she secured an internship with games, and her career with them officially began.
her career comes first and is the primary influence in every decision she makes; nothing and no one can get in the way of her and her road to becoming the first female head gamemaker.
while she has been through trials and tribulations to come out the other side smelling like roses, she has been constantly undermined and under appreciation, leaving her to turn to vindictive methods to get to where she wants to be.
right under the nose of seneca crane, she knows that her time is coming.
[ EMMY RAVER-LAMPMAN, CIS FEMALE, SHE/HER. ] introducing proserpina rollins, VICTOR of the 68th hunger games, representing district one. my sources say that they are thirty years old, & that they’re pretty handy with poison &weaponry . wonder if that did them any good in the arena ? anyways, caesar says you can’t miss them, because they remind everyone of a switchblade, poison gloves, needles, &fangs.
hi friends! this is my first baby, and i'd love to plot with you all! i’m very excited to be here.
name: proserpina josephine rollins
nickname: pp, pina, prosi, pj.
dob: feb 27th 1990
birthplace: district one.
gender: cis woman
sexuality: panromantic pansexual
marital status: married.
occupation: medical doctor
education: md. phd in biochemistry & pharmaceutics
myers briggs: intj
moral alignment: lawful good.
pina was born into the rollins family, a family notorious for it’s members being reaped into the games. many called it luck, many called it honor, pina did not see it that way. she considered it a curse. family members, dying for the entertainment of the capitol. her home was filled of tributes to her family members that had fallen. no one had ever made it out the other side. she was training the moment she learned to walk, along her twin sister. it was clear throughout training that she was the stronger of the two physically, but naturally she had a compassionate heart, and the idea of having to take the life of another was a big fear that haunted her consciously and subconsciously.
during the 68th hunger games, her sister was announced to be the tribute to represent the district. while her family thrilled, pina knew that if she entered the games she would die. knowing she had a better chance of succeeding she volunteered to take her spot, relinquishing her twin from the terrors she had accepted. from that moment she grew cold, calculated, throwing fake smiles and enthusiasm for the cameras. while other tributes would primarily depend on weaponry to help them in the games, she would depend on the earth and what she provides, more specifically, poison. her infatuation with poison and her chemistry with it would make her known to the game spectators as the viper’s vixen. when the games started she vowed she wouldn’t have to make an offensive attack unless she had to. it wasn’t until the last three nights, where she set poison traps that eliminated three competitors, trying to make them go as painlessly as possible. at the last night she had to physically defend herself against another career tribute from district two. she had dipped the knives in poison that was sponsored to her as she gutted the girl in leg. she wouldn’t attack her anymore as she fell to the ground unable to move. she sat next to her and talked to her until she passed, leaving a traumatized and guilt ridden proserpina rollins, the victor of the 68th hunger games, and a trailblazer in her family.
after her wins, she lived as quiet a life she could. while all her family could do was boast, she wanted to return to a life where she didn’t have to worry about the games. but how easy was that with the capitol calling her back for victor interviews and mentoring sessions with new young, promising people? every year she went, every year the capitol took a piece of her essence. she was still able to stay in school, become a doctor and help people the best she could. she felt it was the only way to truly redeem herself from her actions in the games.
Well, Stefania certainly had some sass in her today. The bright smile on Ravi’s face fell to a murderous glare for the briefest of moments before bouncing back into a content smirk. “Where’d you learn that trash talk? The pathetic competitors during your Games?”
Ravi sipped at her drink again, sizing the young woman up. After a moment, she saw Stef scratch at the tattoo on her wrist, and a light bulb went off. “Stefania. You can’t possibly be mad at me for my Games? All those years ago? You were in the Arena yourself - you know it’s kill or be killed. If it makes you feel any better, I quite enjoyed fighting Ariadne. She was a marvelous opponent, unlike just about everyone else in my Games.”
Ravi took another measured sip from her champagne as Stef downed hers. “You seem so on edge! What say you we let bygones be bygones and have a good clean Games this year? And I’ll start that off with a piece of advice: don’t get sentimental on your Tributes. One, it only will end in heartbreak and two, the Sponsors don’t give two shits about the families. If you actually want to help your Tributes, hype them up. Get excited about the Games. Play them. We’re on the other side now, Stefania. Hop to it.”
With that, Ravi drained the rest of her wine.
𝒮𝓉𝑒𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝒻𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝓌 𝓅𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝒶𝓉 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒶 𝓈𝓅𝓁𝒾𝓉 𝓈𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝓁𝓊𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓃 𝓇𝒶𝑔𝑒. “That wasn’t trash talk. I don’t stoop down to the childlike behavior of your niche.” She responds with a snarl as she sips on her second glass. As she heard her aunt’s name come out of her mouth she broke the champagne glass and pointed it in the direction of her neck. “Don’t you, ever, breathe her name to me. Ever. I don’t give a fuck about the games. I killed people too. And people hate me for it. Rightfully so. But I show respect. You’re an apathetic sociopath. You were heartless.”
She gasps as she slowly drops the glass as she turns around, grabs a tequila shot and downs it. “You may be okay and wired like a robot but I have my humanity. I remember how I got here just enough without letting it take me over, because I’m a decent fucking person. There’s no excitement.We may have trained for this, but if they play their cards wrong...or stabbed in the back, they become memories. So you do things your way, and I’ll do things mine.”
to say that winslow dislikes saffron is perhaps not entirely accurate . they think that if their circumstances were different , they could have been the best of friends — but that is not the case , and so they are bitter rivals , locked into a pointless death match even more disinteresting than the games they help to run . “ if everything were as it seemed , neither of us would have a job , ” they reply , seemingly unbothered . internally , they are irritated , because of course they are , what kind of rivalry would it be if they weren’t ? and because win despises baseless accusations — does saffron really think that they would still be here if they were a subpar employee ? it’s not as if their family holds any sway with the capitol , with one parent dead for rebellion and one a disgraced ex - peacekeeper . winslow is the only one in the tiny jeong family that anyone with power likes — if they fuck up , they’re gone . they turn away from their co - worker to observe the parade , the tributes in their absurd , capitol - appropriate outfits that the stylists all seem to think are the height of fashion .
"𝒽𝓂...𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝓂𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓇." 𝓈𝒶𝒻𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓃 𝒻𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓈 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝒸𝑜𝒻𝒻𝓈. saffron’s desire to show out during these games was alive and well, and can only increase at this rate. the question was how quickly. her family was around somewhere enjoying the parade. her happily married parents and her siblings, cheering on the tributes. “I think the fashion show happens to be rather cute. They have their fun now, we have ours in a few. It seems fair.” She twirls her hair with her finger, smiling softly.
𝖆 𝖜𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓 𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 supposed glory that comes with victory in games that are painted as a majestic trial of puppets to please their almighty master , her eye catches juniper’s timid frame and all hopes of shying away immediately vanish . there is no peaceful retreat when she has already been spotted , no escape that doesn’t carry the brand of cowardice that juniper has been made aware that she cannot carry . an encounter with another victor , a reprimand where she was prompted to embrace the cruelty that comes so naturally to some . told that fear does not make her worthy of a crown , she is left to grasp at any darkness within her in hopes of hardening her exterior in preparation for a battle where the stakes rise higher than they have ever been . juniper stands tall in the face of a victor , even when her knees threaten to buckle beneath her own weight with every step that the woman takes in her direction ––––– no you weren’t , and juniper has been read accurately . a gulp , yet no fear is swallowed back ––––– it lingers on every pore , ever present . she may not be the soft , innocent girl she once was , yet juniper is far from the evil that nero waterway expected of her ––––– no , she’s just so scared . ‘ i am , ’ juniper says , with a small nod . it carries no pride . only the grim reluctance of a girl who has accepted the fact that she must fight for her own survival . ‘ though i guess fighting for my life is a bit more accurate . ’
𝒮𝓉𝑒𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒾𝒶 𝓃𝑜𝒹𝓈 𝒸𝓊𝓇𝓉𝓁𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹. “It’s very smart of you to get a quick look around before you attempt to impress the snooty gamemakers and their snooty douche guests.” She offers an encouraging smile. “I’m not on official duty myself but you know. I get dragged out to this nonsense every year. It’s not great but it’s better than dying.” She sighs. She was looking at a tribute and she was thinking of the Archembaults. A family from her home who had both kids reaped at once. The Dugues are no stranger to the games. Stef was the first victor to come out alive. Alive she was. But scarred. “I’ve been hauled around or so many years after I won and I still...struggle when it comes to what to say. There is nothing we can say to make things easier. Not even ‘I’m sorry’. Even though I am.” She offers a hand, “Stefania Dugue. District 1. But Stef or Steffi works.”
Ravinia was thrilled to be in the Capitol to watch the Parade. The pomp and the glamor, the ritz and the sizzle - it left her with a permanent, beaming smile on her face. And how majestic the District Two Tributes had looked! Not as good as she had back in her day, of course. But nonetheless, they were fabulous.
Ravi allowed herself one moment of fond remembrance. Her own Tribute Parade, the warm applause of the adoring crowd, the way Caesar’s hair changed color overnight. Ravi almost got lost, but was snapped back to the present by the man in front of her. “Oh, yes, fabulous!” she replied, hoping it was appropriate. The man smiled and excused himself - hopefully Ravi had secured some funding for her Tributes. She took a sip from an oversized champagne flute when someone roughly passed behind her, nearly causing her to spill her wine.
She turned to see the lovely Stefania Dugue - now there was a throwback to her own Games. “Oh, as I live and breathe! Stefania Dugue!” Ravi raised her glass in a small salute. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages. How have you been? I am obsessed with the Tributes from One this year. They looked marvelous in their chariots. Not quite as good as my Theodore and Grier, but not too bad, not too bad.” She gave a roguish wink and sipped at her wine. “Ready to see District One fall to District Two again?”
𝒮𝓉𝑒𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒾𝒶 𝓇𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝑒𝓎𝑒𝓈, 𝒶𝓁𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓂𝒶𝒸𝒽. Listening to her ramble enthusiastically about the games, didn’t help. She lightly scratched her wrists as her aunts name stretched out her skin. The shit in her lab could make her killer suffer for weeks, months even before she perished. But that would bring more trouble for Stefania. She had been more vocal for her disdain for her and the games, yet here she was. She raised her hand to cut her off. “How lovely, as the years go by your brain melts and your skin sags. The Archembaults are in my thoughts and I’m gonna make sure that family doesn’t lose two kids. Not for the games’ sake. But for them.” She scoffed as she took two glasses from the waiter and downed one instantly.
𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓎𝑒𝒶𝓇'𝓈 𝑔𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒾𝓍𝓉𝒽 𝑔𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒮𝒶𝒻𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓃 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻, 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓈 𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝑔𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓇. She could not hold her excitement. Being a part of what makes the games the games kept her alive. She watched the parade eyes wide. Watching each tribute, each person. She read them Their aura, they’re style. The slightest bit of microexpression. She held onto it. It was gonna do her well when it was go time. She needed this. She needed the games more than ever. The past couple of months were tense and she needed her release. She looked around and made eye contact with Crane. Her blonde waves were looking just the way she wanted. Working with an ex can be trying. But Saffron was not about to be shoved around. She’s going to continue working her way up. She throws a wink at Crane before turning away to find her co worker in her eyeshot. She smirks. If anyone was somewhat a threat to what was rightfully hers, it was Winslow Jeong. “Well well well,” she tilts her head as she trots toward them. “It’s quarter to game time. Are you ready? You don’t seem ready. But then again, do you ever?”
𝐸𝓈𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓃𝑜𝓌. 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓁𝓎, 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝓌𝒶𝓈. Her luck was awful. Of course she got picked. But what was left for her in district 3. A family life full of neglect. A childhood full of ignorance. She was more than a oops baby. Maybe if she made it out alive, she could prove herself as such. She sighed as she pulled on a wristband and released it, causing a sting on her wrist. She kept doing it, increasing the stimulus on her wrist. She looked around as her heart palpated at an accelerated rate. She didn’t know what to think. How to feel. She wanted to be scared. But fear does nothing positive in her eyes. She had to remember this is real, and that if she doesn’t play her cards right. Her days were numbered. She looked over at a young woman and looked away immediately. Social hour wasn’t a thing. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒶𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓇𝓃𝑒𝓇 and Stefania was over it. Being a Dugue. Being a career victor. She wanted to be at home, in the house she earned, playing with poison, playing with chemicals...and of course, helping people the best way she could. But the games...were her duty. She played the game, won. Little did she know this was her life now. There was no running away from the games...until death. She just loved the constant reminder of her victims, and all she has lost to the entertainment of...well, the capitol. the parade was over and she was walking around, greeting people who she thought she should make her presence known to. In her eye shot she saw the one woman she detested more than any one. she looked down at her tattoo. 𝒶𝓇𝒾𝒶𝒹𝓃𝑒. her aunt. her best friend. district one. third place. 59th hunger games. and in her eyes was the woman who one who not only won, but killed her to get there. she continued walk and she shoved her with her shoulder before turning around to scoff, “sorry. didn’t see you there.”
𝖏𝖚𝖓𝖎𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖕𝖊𝖊𝖐𝖘 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖆 𝖜𝖎𝖉𝖊 room under the cover that a shadowed corner provides . palms pressed against glass that lets her peek inside , eyes roam over deathly equipment . broadswords and knives glimmer in low light , though juniper’s eyes skip over every blade that displays power until landing on the one weapon that her hand has held . an array of sickles ––––– they are different from the ones she has wielded in her lifetime , meant to slice flesh instead of plants , yet there is a familiarity in the curve of the blade . still , the moment of relief is short –– lived and quickly followed by a new bout of panic upon the realization that juniper is not the only one who will enter the arena with proficiency in a blade . no , hard work is nowhere near the level of expertise that can be attained through rigorous training . she knows that her battle will never be evenly matched , not when she is driven by fear and others will enter the arena feeling nothing short of glorious . breath quickens , palms grow sweaty against the glass ––––– the softest sound from behind her is enough to make juniper wince as she turns to face a stranger . there is no crime in a sneak peek at the training room , yet she faces the other like a thief caught with their hand inside a wallet . ‘ um ––––– i was just leaving . ’
𝓸𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷, 𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓯𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓪 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓭𝓻𝓪𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓭 into being a part of these games. seven years ago. seven years ago, she was the viper’s vixen: violently killing people and violently getting hurt. she has scars on her body that look like they just appeared yesterday. every year, the capitol outsells these games, and every year stef gets sicker. most days out of the year she lives a quiet life, and she’s more than grateful to have it. but here she was, a mentor. mentoring these...kids...on how to get through the games when most of them are just set to perish within days. a career victor. so much honor, but at what cost. stefania was being shown around the training center, pretending to be intrigued to maintain her good graces with her family and the capitol. she breaks away from the group to look around herself before noticing a young girl looking around. she decided to approach her. she smiled softly as she made eye contact with her. “no you weren’t,” she smiles softly. “you uh...you competing?”
[ LULU ANTARIKSA, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER. ] introducing esme palewski, TRIBUTE of the 74th / year hunger games, representing district 3. my sources say that they are 20 years old, & that they’re pretty handy with knives, combat and archery wonder if that will do / did them any good in the arena ? anyways, caesar says you can’t miss them, because they remind everyone of wicked smile, pompous attitude, combat boots, a half sleeve of tattoos.
i will add a bio later i just wanted to put out a plotting call for her too.im gonna go nap now.
