51st Annual Hunger Games Victory Tour

Joined: 9:39 PM - Apr 01, 2012

2:53 PM - Apr 09, 2016 #1

President Snow sat in his private study, a disgusted look on his face as he watched the games by himself. "Why couldn't they all die?" he asked himself as he stood from his desk, his viewing screen retracting into his desk. With the final blow being dealt, it was time to present the nation with their latest victor. President Snow shuddered at the thought of having to be seen with another tribute, one of the low points of his position of power. Every year he wished that all twenty-four of the tributes who entered the arena would not return instead of the one. It would please him greatly to have all the districts lose both of their tributes. Instead, one district was deemed victorious each year, much to his dismay. His own team of personal assistants came into his study to prepare him for the introduction of the latest victor. Their ranks were growing faster than he would had liked, but there was nothing he could do about that....yet. This was ridiculous, District Four had won yet again, how many was that now? Snow didn't even want to think about that number. They had the most out of all the career districts, it made the others look poor by comparison. He couldn't even recall the last time Districts One or Two had even won the games, embarrassing for them.

His staff of assistants were busy making sure everything was in place for the president's appearance to the Capitol and to the nation. A fine wooden box had been brought in, inside the crown he would bestow to the latest winner of their games. He opened the box to take a brief peek at the crown inside, giving his assistants a brief nod before he closed the box. President Snow changed out of his current blazer for another, pinning a recently clipped rose to its lapel. Both he and his assistants went over his appearance in great detail, making sure not even a hair was out of place. When he was prepared to speak to the nation and present to them their winner, he slipped on a pair of white gloves as he emerged from his study. Flanked by his head peacekeeper and his second in command, they walked briskly and in step with one another as they went to receive their victor. The podium was ready and the crowd awaited for both his and their newest victor's arrival. The people loved their victors, but he knew that before this time next year, they would be salivating for a new one. This victor was just another flavor of the week, like the others before and the others to come. They would all be forgotten while Snow remained.

As President Snow approached the podium, the crowd before him hushed quickly. Hands placed on either side of the podium, he took a moment to look at the crowd before he began to speak. "We've reached the end of another Hunger Games and today, we crown the next in a long line of victors. District Four has reached an unprecedented five victors now and have won back to back Hunger Games, a feat never seen before." spoke Snow, taking a brief pause before he continued speaking. "Winning takes precedence over all, there are no gray areas and there are no almosts." he continued as one of his assistants approached, wooden box in hand. "With that said, I would like to present to you, the nation of Panem, the winner of the 51st annual Hunger Games, representing District Four, Misty Lethe." he concluded as he turned to his assistant, opening the wooden box and removing the victor's crown. Carefully, he removed the crown and placed it upon the young woman's head softly, feigning a proud look. With that, he and his peacekeeper escort immediately left the vicinity. President Snow removed his gloves once he was out of sight, shaking his head in disgust. "Next year, they all die." he said quietly to his peacekeepers as they walked away.
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Joined: 2:45 AM - Jul 05, 2012

9:05 PM - Apr 09, 2016 #2

Skipper Teague stood at the president's left during the crowning ceremony, wearing the same gold, shimmery gown that she wore to each of their crownings. Her crown of platinum curls was framed by a gilt gold crown--the sharp points of trident barbs combined tastefully with the softness of seaweed. As silent as a statue, Skipper looked out in the masses of capitol citizens. They were wearing blue, many different shades to signify the oceanic power of the watery district.

Her legacy was set--the dynasty of District Four was undeniable. The irrefutable might of the ocean was no match for the other tributes and Misty had come out on top. Skipper, Caiman, Harbor, Scurvy Marty, and now Misty were the victors of District Four. As the president crowned Misty, Skipper applauded, golden jewelry snaking along her tanned arms as she gave her first genuine smile in months.

There would be no living with Skipper after this. Four victors, more than any career, the most wins from a single district in a decade, and all that was left would be four year-old Leven Boatwright, who was standing at Skipper's side, her blond hair curled just like that of her godmother, mimicking her applause.

The future was set.

Joined: 12:46 AM - Nov 09, 2015

12:46 AM - Apr 10, 2016 #3

Eight long days in the arena had led up to this moment. Misty had been scrubbed clean to the point where she felt like she was an entirely new person. Her blemishes were either removed or smoothed over and given IV fluids as she rested. But now, here she was at her coronation, no longer a tribute but a Victor. Misty stood proudly where she had been told to with her back straight, addressing the nation with a cool and confident gaze. Her dress looked like it came from the sea itself. It shimmered in the light like sapphires and emeralds. Misty couldn't look at it without being reminded of the sea, home and her district partner Colby.

They'd achieved what no other district had; a back to back Victory. Everyone had to know now that District four was the one to beat. Misty raised her chin slightly when the President announced her name as the Victor then placed the crown on her perfectly styled hair. She felt like a Queen and rightfully so. She'd won the hunger games, which meant that her name would be known forever. Misty raised a hand and waved, somehow looking both fierce and regal at the same time.

Oh how she longed for the seas of district four but first: District One where fellow careers Slyver Lovington and Cotty Cox hailed from. The blonde didn't know what to expect when she visited the luxurious district.



Joined: 4:10 PM - Sep 28, 2015

6:28 PM - Apr 11, 2016 #4

There is no posting order for the Victory Tour, so please take a turn when you can :)

Colby slowly walked away from the presentation stage in the centre of the justice square. Misty took her bow and Skipper clapped heartily as another victory was secured for District 4. The teen had a small smile on his face as the unaware crowd naturally parted for him to pass.

Misty would make a great victor.

Colby's feet led him to the damp sandy shore line and the boy sat down. The cold water seeped through his dress pants, but the military jacket he wore kept him warm. Colby shut his eyes as the dimming sun's rays burst through the sunset clouds just above the horizon line.

As the glowing bulb dipped bellow the azure blue waves so did Colby's spirit.

I got my toes in the water, ass in the sand
Not a worry in the world, a cold beer in my hand
Life is good today.

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Joined: 6:36 PM - Aug 03, 2015

7:27 PM - Apr 11, 2016 #5

Alon 's restless spirit had almost passed up going to the victory tour. His heart had felt so broken and so worried. He had not wanted to see the despair on his family's faces.

When his spirit had approached his eyes had first caught sight of who the new victor was. Alon had felt a little sadden that it hadn't been anyone from his alliance. Despite , that he had told himself that there was nothing he could do about it. After that thought the dark haired ghost had floated to his family's podium.

Just as he feared he had been met with the sight of his youngest sister crying. Seeing his sister cling to their father had made him want to hug her. But , in his efforts his hand had just passed through her. Goodbye Willow please be okay for me the dark haired man had begged in thoughts. Meanwhile , across the man's face tears had brushed his cheeks.

In his sadness the teen didn't even bother looking back at the stage. It hadn't really mattered much to him anymore. Even though he had wished that it couldn't been him up there instead. After though the tall dark haired man's spirit had slowly started to dissipate and float off to heaven.

Stacked Deck-Your max roll increases by 1 for each day you surivive
High Tech: Ability to know what a piece of Technology does, and how to work with it.
Precision: Gives tribute one extra critical roll, one number above the standard for their weapon. will apply to all weapons this tribute wields.
Hunting Traping: Allows 2 of extra searches per IC day in the arena.

Joined: 12:51 AM - Jul 04, 2015

11:49 AM - Apr 14, 2016 #6

Are the runner-ups those most easily remembered, or the first to be forgotten? Ginny really hoped it would be the first option. She wanted her sister to keep calling her name, and her friends to drink beers in her honor. She wanted Pan to care about future tributes and tell them about that girl, who had had nothing going on in her favour, but that had still made it to the very end.

She wanted to live but that was not possible anymore, at least not in the way she was used to. Luckily there was something, after death. Or maybe it was unlucky. Perhaps if Gwen had just been taken out of the world and carried to the neverending darkness she wouldn’t have suffered as much. In the very least she wouldn’t have been able to witness her sister, standing on the podium, crying. She could see the bruises on Tea’s arms and legs, and without having been there she knew exactly what had happened.

If Gwen had lived she could have taken care of her, like Tea had taken care of her their whole lives. If she had lived she could have taken care of everyone.

Joined: 10:16 PM - Oct 14, 2015

12:31 AM - Apr 15, 2016 #7

Even in death, he found a reason to be pissed off.

The weather sucked, even in the afterlife. One would think that, in exchange for having endured an entire lifetime, a soul would be allowed at least some sunshine, but that was not the case. The universe looked right down onto District Twelve and sent fat, black clouds that threatened storms all day but only kept bullshit-drizzling and would have soaked Midas right to the bone if he were, you know, alive. But through a series of rather unfortunate events, he wasn't alive and so the soft little kisses of raindrops glided right through him, soaking into the soil of Twelve and into the ratty clothes of the citizens gathered in the square for the tour.

Midas didn't go to the Tour - he figured he'd exercise one of the few upsides of being dead by not having to be really anywhere. He could do whatever now (not that being alive had ever stopped him in that department) and therefore he could exempt himself from whatever gathering he so pleased. And the Victory Tour was one of them; Midas was still too irritable from having been shot in the head with a bowcaster to attend. Being dead sucked enough, he didn't want to worsen the effects by staring at and listening to his murderer speak about a bunch of bullshit.

So instead, he lingered between to run-down buildings, watching idly as several stray cats fought over the rights of a skinny field mouse. He'd spent the better part of the day there, watching the people move along and do their thing per usual, only they didn't see him and sometimes passed right through if he didn't move away in time. Midas had visited his father a single time, lingering in the door-frame of their house and seeing him silhouetted against the floor with a bottle of something strong. That was how Midas remembered him. He didn't stay for long.

As the Victory Tour began, Midas watched silently as the citizens flooded slowly towards the square until the streets were bled dry of movement and his spirit was the only thing left. Even from the distance, he could hear the muffled microphone amplifying Misty's words, and Midas tried to block them out best he could. He didn't care what she had to say - he was so over that Hunger Games stuff - and so he pretended to be interested in the sky. The clouds rolled past lazily, heavy and low and wet, and he watched for what seemed like hours. Because, popular to contrary belief, there were no drugs in the afterlife and he couldn't just blaze one to forget about it, so cloud-watching was one of his few entertainments.

Midas didn't wonder much about the others who'd died, or where they had gone or why he was back here, walking Twelve as if it were his own personal hell and punishment for all those years of theft at the Hob. He guessed the other tributes had gone to their own hells as well, or their heavens, depending on what they believed in or whatever. It was hard to say, and he didn't want to think about it either. He didn't want to think about anything, really. So he didn't; he turned his head up to the sky and watched until day bled to night and the earth was cloaked in black.

Pickpocket: Once a day landing a successful unarmed attack allows you to steal a small item from your enemy.
Running: Attack and flee in the same post.
Hunger Strike: Only need to eat every other day.

Joined: 12:54 AM - Jan 22, 2015

3:51 AM - Apr 15, 2016 #8

The most important thing in Peko's life had always been family, and even in death that continued to be the case. It had been surprising to him to open his eyes, both of them, one more time as his last memory was being struck down by Carnelian Bloodstone during the Feast he had volunteered for. When his eyes had opened he had found himself standing back home, in District Nine, looking down as a wooden box was lowered to the ground. Around him were people dressed in black, and as their faces became more clear he realized it was his family, and all of those whom he had loved before.

There were tears, but as he listened to the words that were said about him he found himself smiling. They were all proud of him, they said he died a hero, and his father said if he ever had to watch his eldest son die then that was the way he would choose to because despite it being painful he got to witness the outstanding man that Peko had become.

The Peace-keeper's son remained around his family making sure that they were fine, or as fine as they could be considering the circumstances. It was awfully clear that they were sad, devastated even, but they were sticking together to support each other through the tragedy that was losing Peko. He watched as his father paid a visit to Ginny's sister, to offer support, to help her with supplied, and once again he was proud that his father could hold such a position within the District.

He stood behind his brother as he watched Ginny fight for her life one last time, and almost defeat the Career only to fall short. He had closed his eyes and allowed a single tear to trickle down his face because she had almost had it. A chance to make everyone in their beloved district be fed, but she had tried which was more than he could ask for.

Peko watched the ceremony from the platform next to his family, he noticed Gwen's sister crying and he hoped that his father would check on her again. And as the ceremony came to an end he saw a light shining up in the sky above him, and he knew that it was time. They were going to be fine, and he had to go elsewhere, perhaps another adventure awaited, or maybe he could just finally stop taking care of everyone around him, carrying their burden on his own shoulders and finally have a rest.

Now that would be nice...

Unarmed combat: Doubles the power of unarmed rolls (max of 40) [approved by staff]
Running: Attack and flee in the same post
Fisticuffs: Plus 7 to unarmed roll if the enemy is using a weapon.�and you have declared fisticuffs.

Joined: 3:13 AM - Jan 21, 2015

11:08 PM - Apr 15, 2016 #9

  • Wow who would've known that death would've been so amazing! Of course there was still the constant people in hell who wanted to befriend Cotty and she had to deny them the offer. As long as her spirit remained she'd always be better than everyone. Yeah, she didn't win the 51st Annual Hunger Games and that thing... Musty won but did that really matter at the end? Did it really matter if anyone won that wasn't Cotty? Misty's fame would soon die off in a few days as another one-hit wonder. The games was practically over after Cotty was gone... I mean how many views did it get? Her life was only beginning now - six feet under! She'd gotten so many TV Offers in hell and was definitely living the Panem Dream! Cotty didn't even have enough time to see the Victory Tour because she was busy posing for the front cover of Underworld Diva Magazine. She was happy; at last. Given the circumstances she died, it was all perfectly fine!
    Click for a reminder, xo.

    In the mean time get your own exclusive of her new released magazine fellow Hell Angels.

    (Click the spoiler)
    [+] Spoiler

Joined: 7:01 PM - Oct 05, 2015

4:32 PM - Apr 16, 2016 #10

Sylver had failed, just as his brother Bronze had failed before him. He was conceived to win, and he hadn't managed to claim his birthright. His thoughts were not with his parents, the now twice-childless Lovintons whose hunger for glory would forever go unquenched. There was nothing but darkness, at first as the gamemakers removed his corpse, veins distended with starvation. There was silence during a ceremony by which his golden box was lowered into the earth beside his brother.

Until forty days later, his eyes opened again, and he was able to move. The moment he was capable, he fell through the earth, down, down...through the earth, landing on ground hard. The first thing he saw when he lifted his head, was his brother, Bronze. He knew him, because their entire home had been an unofficial shrine to the brother he had never met. As Bronze helped him to his feet, he looked at the boy he had been groomed to be. It had been ten years since Bronze's games, but his face was unchanged.

Sylver would remain ageless, his life stolen by the Capitol forever.