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appearifier2012-04-02 04:43 pm
gundamkind) wrote in appearifier2012-04-02 04:43 pm
(no subject)
warning for adult content and possible triggers:
violence, death, nonconsent and all around questionable situations.
Congratulations, Tribute.
You have been selected to participate in the Hunger Games.
The rules are simple: there can only be one victor.
You have to kill everyone else or die.
The last one standing wins.
May the odds be ever in your favour.
⚔
.Relationship.
1. ENEMIES: in for the kill
The truth is you've been plotting each other's death for a long time. The only thing different about this situation is that everyone else actually wants you to off each other. Who cares if both of you are probably going to die anyway: no one is taking this bastard down except you.
2. ROMANCE: lovers in a dangerous time
What do lovers do when they know they're about to die? Last kiss, last words, last fuck? Maybe you're desperately trying to protect each other from the rest. Maybe you're the last two left alive. What sacrifices are you willing to make? How far will you allow each other to go?
3. ALLIES: set your arms down
It's in both of your best interests to stick together. Two together is more deadly than one, and you can pool supplies and weapons. Of course, this arrangement is most definitely temporary. Maybe it'll fall apart tonight, or tomorrow, or next week. Maybe your alliance has already run its course, and it's about to fall apart...right now.
4. TORTURE: death's not the worst
Sure, the point is to kill them. But why leave it at that? Maybe you've always secretly gotten off on this sort of thing, or maybe you've just cracked under the stress. When everyone is going to die, there's no point in sticking to all those rules society laid down for you any more. You've already incapacitated them; there's no way they can fight back. Might as well have some fun, right?
5. VICTORY: the finish line
You've done it. Last one standing. You've chosen to live, and no one but you knows how much that choice cost you, because they're all dead. At this point there's nothing that will stop you from stepping up to claim victory. You killed every other tribute. Or did you?
.Scenerio.
1. Train ride.
You've just been chosen to participate in the annual Hunger Games. Maybe you knew your number was coming up, maybe you thought that it would never be you. None the less the Reaping is over and your fate is sealed.
2. Interviews.
You've got to earn those sponsors, net that attention, win the crowds over so you've got a better chance of getting out of there alive. Maybe you need to practice, maybe you need to have a word with a fellow tribute over something they've said.
3. Training.
The Games have not yet begun. You're forbidden from fighting, but maybe that won't stop you. Maybe you just want to show off and give them a taste of what they're in for. Maybe you're planning an alliance and you need to know your teammate's strengths... and weaknesses.
4. Banquet.
You've just been lifted up into the arena and the cornucopia is in sight. Do you run for it or away? Better hope your alliance mates get out alright.
5. Hunting.
Friend, foe, stranger? Who cares. You're trying to meet up with them. Maybe to forge an alliance, maybe to kill them yourselves.
6. Dying.
Should have zigged when you zagged. Looks like the odds were never in your favor.
7. Winner.
You've won. Now you're on your way back home. Your friends are waiting, your enemies, and forbidden or not you, might just find you're done done yet.
8. Revolutionary.
No more. You won't allow this to happen again.
Let the Games begin.
violence, death, nonconsent and all around questionable situations.
THE HUNGER GAMES MEME
Congratulations, Tribute.
You have been selected to participate in the Hunger Games.
The rules are simple: there can only be one victor.
You have to kill everyone else or die.
The last one standing wins.
May the odds be ever in your favour.
⚔
.Relationship.
1. ENEMIES: in for the kill
The truth is you've been plotting each other's death for a long time. The only thing different about this situation is that everyone else actually wants you to off each other. Who cares if both of you are probably going to die anyway: no one is taking this bastard down except you.
2. ROMANCE: lovers in a dangerous time
What do lovers do when they know they're about to die? Last kiss, last words, last fuck? Maybe you're desperately trying to protect each other from the rest. Maybe you're the last two left alive. What sacrifices are you willing to make? How far will you allow each other to go?
3. ALLIES: set your arms down
It's in both of your best interests to stick together. Two together is more deadly than one, and you can pool supplies and weapons. Of course, this arrangement is most definitely temporary. Maybe it'll fall apart tonight, or tomorrow, or next week. Maybe your alliance has already run its course, and it's about to fall apart...right now.
4. TORTURE: death's not the worst
Sure, the point is to kill them. But why leave it at that? Maybe you've always secretly gotten off on this sort of thing, or maybe you've just cracked under the stress. When everyone is going to die, there's no point in sticking to all those rules society laid down for you any more. You've already incapacitated them; there's no way they can fight back. Might as well have some fun, right?
5. VICTORY: the finish line
You've done it. Last one standing. You've chosen to live, and no one but you knows how much that choice cost you, because they're all dead. At this point there's nothing that will stop you from stepping up to claim victory. You killed every other tribute. Or did you?
.Scenerio.
1. Train ride.
You've just been chosen to participate in the annual Hunger Games. Maybe you knew your number was coming up, maybe you thought that it would never be you. None the less the Reaping is over and your fate is sealed.
2. Interviews.
You've got to earn those sponsors, net that attention, win the crowds over so you've got a better chance of getting out of there alive. Maybe you need to practice, maybe you need to have a word with a fellow tribute over something they've said.
3. Training.
The Games have not yet begun. You're forbidden from fighting, but maybe that won't stop you. Maybe you just want to show off and give them a taste of what they're in for. Maybe you're planning an alliance and you need to know your teammate's strengths... and weaknesses.
4. Banquet.
You've just been lifted up into the arena and the cornucopia is in sight. Do you run for it or away? Better hope your alliance mates get out alright.
5. Hunting.
Friend, foe, stranger? Who cares. You're trying to meet up with them. Maybe to forge an alliance, maybe to kill them yourselves.
6. Dying.
Should have zigged when you zagged. Looks like the odds were never in your favor.
7. Winner.
You've won. Now you're on your way back home. Your friends are waiting, your enemies, and forbidden or not you, might just find you're done done yet.
8. Revolutionary.
No more. You won't allow this to happen again.
Let the Games begin.
8-ish?
He's a little older, almost gawky as his bones grow faster than he can put on weight, even given how much he can put away at dinner. He still eats like their supplies could give out any second--he takes twice as much as he can cram in his stomach and then wraps the rest in a napkin and hoards it for later. Dirk lets him, even though it's clear it's unnecessary. Things aren't as bad here in District Five as they were in Ten. Or back in the Arena.
Or maybe they are, because even though Bro's found him again and led all Dave's friends to join him in Dirk's budding underground revolt, the kid still sleeps curled up around the sword he stole from another Tribute's corpse, the one he smuggled with him when he escaped from the Arena into the ancient sewers of Five. And that's only when he does sleep. Sometimes something in the sewers misfires loud and ringing in their subterranean hideout, and Dave sits up for the rest of the night with knuckles locked white around the sword hilt unless Rose talks him back to bed, or Jane makes him hot cider.
And he always wears long sleeves to hide the ragged, ugly scar from where he dug the tracker out of his own arm.
He pretends this is all normal, though, all part of his cool and inscrutable ways, District Ten's unflappable upstart crow. So when his friends wake in the middle of the night to see him apart from their pile of blankets and cats, he just nods and gives them a quiet "Sup."]
no subject
In any case, she smiles faintly and looks at him before turning her gaze to the kitten, wiggling fingers in front of its face. ]
I don't feel like sleeping.
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[He watches her play with the cat for a moment before unpeeling one hand from his sword--it's something of an effort, his knuckles are stiff from not moving--to rub behind its ear. It's only for a second, and he returns his hand to his lap, flexing it and shaking it out.
John got him a pair of replacement shades, but Dave doesn't wear them at night, not in the hideout. There are heavy shadows under his eyes. They're pretty stark against his skin; he's always been too pale for a boy from Ten.
He sits forward and digs for something in his pocket.]
You hungry?
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You should eat. You didn't have enough dinner.
[ She says irregardless of how much he ate, really, but she remembers vividly enough the Games footage and it'll be a while before she forgets, doesn't quietly go out of her way to make sure he gets more of - anything nice, really. She glances at him long enough that the kitten, feeling neglected, mews loudly and paws at her still hand, making her turn back to it with the slightest of starts and rubbing its belly. ]
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So was today's conspiratorial pow-wow as boring as usual, or should I have stuck around?
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You probably should have stuck around either way.
[ There's barely any scolding lilt to her tone, all teasing. ]
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I'm good up until Rose starts spitting words like "socio-political egalitarianism" and then I'm done. I don't get paid enough for that, they just want me for my pretty face.
[Talking to Jade while holding the sword apparently isn't working for him, because he lays it down beside him--still in easy reach, but at least not in his hand.]
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That's - [ she pauses, drops her voice ] - why you should probably stay and listen, too.
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[He shrugs and shifts his weight. He just can't. He knows what they're after, he knows what they want from him, but he listens to them talk about that Karkat guy and he remembers how he screamed and cried as Terezi died, remembers the look on his face when the cannon fired for Dave's own "death." It looked like a kid waking up from a nightmare, only the monsters were sitting at the foot of his bed, patting his face.
Too much like a face Dave could wear, if he were anyone else.]
You'd tell me if I missed anything important. I'm a busy guy, I've got to delegate these things.
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[ She nudges his shoulder with her own as she says it. ]
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All you have to do is say the word and you know I'll play hooky. It's not like--
[BANG. There it is, something in the wall cracking like a distant gunshot, and Dave jumps--noticeably--and blanches.]
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It's probably nothing.
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[He draws his hand down over his face. At some point, the other hand closed tight around the sword again. This time he's not letting it go. He keeps his voice light and steady even though his heart's fluttering like a hummingbird.]
There's just a pipe out there flopping loose like some old dude's junk after he forgot to put his pants back on. I asked our fearless leader if I could get out there and take a look at it, but for some reason he acted like it wasn't a top fucking priority, I guess.
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[ She says firmly, in a sort of tone that implies there might be more just talking going on. Then, after a moment, she pulls both hands around his shoulders in a sideways sort of embrace. ]
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Jade?
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You might be Mr Famous Guy now and all, but I don't think anyone's too busy for a hug.
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He doesn't know how to tell her that the thought of discovery scares him less than the noise itself--how it's too much like a cannon, how every time whatever it is misfires he finds himself counting backwards from twenty-four, calculating the hour he'll wake up to steel in his back. He doesn't know how to tell her sometimes he never goes to sleep at all, just listens to District Five tick and waits for that not-cannon to sound his not-death.
One time, in the cold grey hours of the morning that belong to him and Rose, he almost worked up the strength to ask her how much Jade had seen. Instead, they sat there drinking sour coffee in silence.
He has to clear his throat before he can speak.]
Maybe I'll try to work it into my schedule.
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Or was, until he escaped the arena, and - maybe there isn't a need to talk about those days between the firing of that cannon and finding out about his deception and being reunited, except to say that her knuckles still sting to remember how hard she pummeled the wall when she was finally alone. ]
I thought you said all I have to do is say the word!
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Yeah, well, this is an entirely different kind of engagement. We've got to lay down some ground rules, set up an agenda and take minutes. Wait, shit, that was just like Dirk. Never mind, forget anything I just said that sounded suspiciously like I was talking out of my ass.
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Okay, I have forgotten everything you just said.
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[He rolls his eyes and taps his thumb against her arm, but the tightness in his chest and shoulders melts away a little. He taps his fingers again, considers, and then drops the arm to snake it around her back. His hand ends up on her shoulder, and he pulls her in a little, just briefly, a gentle squeeze.]
Tell me when you're done with your little bout of amnesia, 'kay.
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It might take a while.
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[It's not that he doesn't want to let her, maybe, but he's awkward and bony and his shoulders get everywhere. Still, he takes a moment, and then tries to rest his head on top of hers. But only for a moment before lifting it again.]
I can totally hear your brains in there.
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[The warmth of her body finally feels comfortable in the crook of his arm, and he relaxes just that tiniest bit that brings to light how tense he was.]
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