Supernatural HG 5Forum-Index → Roleplay → Supernatural HG 5
A long time ago, things were good. Peace and harmony ruled and people could go about their business but then came the war that nearly wiped out humanity. In order to maintain the hard-earned peace, 12 boys and 12 girls, called Tributes, are put in an outdoor arena where they remain to compete in a nationally televised event called the Hunger Games. The rules are simple: Keep the audience entertained and stay alive by any means necessary. Every citizen must watch as the youths fight for survival against death until only one remains or a full year has passed.
It is now the year 30XX. Your job is to survive the Games for as long as you can in hopes of escape. But even if you do, can you survive the Horrors within the Capital?
Robin was sitting on a rooftop as she watched the sunrise, a small blackish gray tentacle popped from her back and slunk onto her shoulder. Robin slid off the roof and allowed the gravity to pull her down before a pair of wings sprouted out of her back as she suddenly hovered just inches from the ground and floated down daintily. When her feet touched the ground her wings turned back into tentacles again and disappeared into her back as she started home.
Gabriella was working her part time job as a deep-sea treasure hunter, she had just finished her shift and was heading to her shared home with Robin and Harmony. Harmony was already at home, her fingers danced over the old rusted piano, that with Harmony's powers came to life.
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Please train my Party
My first Gmax, Cream!
My first Gmax, Cream!
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you will weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow’s springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What heart heard of, ghost guessed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for."
There was a short moment of silence in the grand room, leaving Terra to bow and let his grey hair fall forwards before he stood and pushed it back. After a few moments, three sets of hands started their applause. Phenix, his father. Cherry, his sister, and Lara, his mother. Terra stepped forward and sat with his family as Cherry stepped up, her elegant stride framed by a few sets of wings. They would vanish soon, but they were beautiful nonetheless. Correcting her stance, she began.
"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
“’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
This it is and nothing more.”
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
’Tis the wind and nothing more!”
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”
But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said “Nevermore.”
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!"
That earned another round of applause after she curtsied, Lara and Phenix smiling. Glancing at the clock, Phenix sighed. "I'm afraid we must cut this short. The Reaping demands our presence." Nodding, Terra and Cherry starting up the stairs, waiting until they were out of their parent's sight before sprinting to their shared room, quickly closing the changing curtain in the middle of it. Cherry grabbed a silky green dress, examining it before nodding and starting to change into it. Terra chose a red velvet tuxedo with a black tie, quickly unbuttoning it and setting it on his bed to change into it. After but a few minutes, they drew the curtain back and started for the door, Phenix and Lara greeting them in a grey suit and a blue dress, respectively. After a collective examination, the family departed.
Angie woke up slowly, yawning and rubbing her eyes as she trotted to her wardrobe and collected a pink dress, changing into it before slipping on socks and shoes. Scampering about the house, she found breakfast ready and waiting, evidently from her parents expecting her to be up sooner. She looked nothing like her parents, truth be told. That was because she was adopted by a couple that were quite heartwarming, if unable to have children of their own. Derek, her father, had most of his body replaced with robotics. He was strong and fast, though gentle in a shocking way. Her mother was a quiet woman, though with enough love to give for both Derek and Angie. They lived a quiet life, money from Derek's father's will having bought them a large, beautiful house and elegant clothes. Hearing something move as she was eating, Angie turned. Around a corner, out of the sun, a spindly wing-limb stayed slightly hidden. Vines were draped over and around it for decoration. "Good morning, Luke!" Angie set down her toast and ran over to the demon, hugging his long legs and looking up at him. "Are we going to go to the Reaper today?" A low, long chuckle resonated from Lukian. "The Reaping. Maybe, if you want to." "I do, I do! It sounds like fun! What do they win if they have their name drawn in the raffle?" Lukian was silent for a moment. "They have a chance to go to another game and win a lot of glory." Angie giggled in delight. "I want to go! It sounds like fun!" Lukian sighed, but agreed to take her.
"ERIC!" A woman said urgently, hurriedly typing away at a computer. "Eric, bring me those files before this customer pulls out. We can't afford to lose another one!" "You mean you're too greedy to admit that the customer is actually right in this situation," Eric muttered, hurrying to a long panel covered in holders and pulling out two manilla folders. Cradling them in his arms, he walked down a long hallway to the room with the woman who was panicking at the computer, pushing open the door. As she shoved her glasses up her long, thin nose, he handed her the folders. "Here you go, Mrs. Enshower," he said smoothly, his hands clasped at the wrists behind his back. "Thank you," she said, not taking her eyes off of the screen. "Really, these people are the most hard-headed I've ever seen. Oh, I shouldn't say that. Eric, make a note of that. Never insult your customers, even if they're not in the room." "Of course Mrs. Enshower." *Sometimes I want to shake some sense into that woman,* he thought dryly. "Alright, go get me some coffee." "Yes, Mrs. Enshower." He walked out of the room, rolling his eyes. Eric hated this job, he really did. But you don't pass up the chance to work in a bank like this. Capitol or not he was doing well if it weren't for the boss that he absolutely despised. How could someone that old still run a bank? He reached the back room, taking a cup in his hand and walking to the tiny, rickety old coffee machine. As he prepared it, he heard two of the bankers, that he assumed didn't realize that he was in the room, talking. "The Hunger Games are coming up, y'know." "Yeah, thank goodness I'm too old to qualify." "That assistant, what was his name? Daren?" "No, no, it was Eric." "Eric, right. Eric's only 16 the last time I checked." "How does a kid get a job at 16 here, of all places?" "Kid's got some weird talent, maybe he used that. My point is, he qualifies for the Hunger Games." "Wouldn't that be a sight? He's too stuffy anyway, he'd never make it." "Can you imagine a kid like him all out on his own? No ability, nothing?" Eric heard a loud snicker, and one of the voices said in a mocking tone, "Oh, look at me, I'm Eric. I'm so high and mighty that I'll win the games by keeping my nose up in the air." Eric felt hot liquid spilling onto his hand, and he looked down suddenly to realize that not only had he been pressing down on the button, but he hadn't been paying attention and the cup had overflowed. Cursing under his breath, he stopped the machine, and drew out the cup, grabbing a few paper napkins from the flimsy dispenser and mopping up the mess, wincing as the rough surface of the napkins scraped across the part of his hand that had been dripping in scalding hot liquid. "Suppose I'll have to look out for rain, then," he called out, silencing the laughs that had been quietly echoing from the next room. "Wouldn't want to get soaked if my nose was up in the air." He left the room to give his boss her coffee, smirking. He'd show up to the Reaping. He'd show those people that he, the last living Ramesh, was much more then they had ever bargained for, even if he had to volunteer for someone.
When he woke up the next morning he immediately knew that something was wrong. His suspicions were confirmed when Maci wasn't laying in bed next to him. Had the Capitol tracked her down? Jaxon wanted Maci's fears to be nothing but a delusion, but his sudden paranoia would lead him to believe anything.
Asher had assured them that they couldn't be found if they follow his instructions. Still, what if Asher was wrong?
Jaxon sits up quickly and storms around the trailer. He has only taken a few steps when he spots movement outside of the window. He finds Maci with Asher. Like every morning, the two were busy sparring with each other. Jaxon takes a moment to watch her. He can't help but stare at her with an affectionate look. She had grown in the arena. She was now a force to be reckoned with. She was tougher, braver, and far more affectionate and caring. She had started working in low-end hospitals. He didn't believe her when she said it because she wanted to stay under the radar. He knew that she loved helping those in need.
Sometimes Maci thought that she had two abilities. She always seemed to know when Jaxon was watching her, it was both something that he admired but also found irritating. Ducking under a jab, she vaults away from Asher and turns around to look back at Jaxon. His hair had grown long, something that he disliked, but she thought that it suited him well. His eyes widen in surprise, then turns to amusement. He steps outside and the two meet in the middle, giving each other a hug as if they haven't seen each other in years.
"You look stressed" she observes.
"Why shouldn't I be?" Jaxon replies honestly.
"Because there aren't any victors in our bloodline" Asher responds as he steps forward to join the two. His expression was calm, it always was. It was very eery, especially when he was enraged, which happened often.
"Then do we really even have to go?" Jaxon asks.
"I'd rather we don't go, it seems a bit counterproductive to hide from the Capitol all year only to return during the one time when we can be easily swarmed by Peacekeepers... but Maci is determined to go" there it was, Asher's enraged tone.
"Come on Asher, the Capitol is changing the rules of the Reaping again. They obviously have something up their sleeve-"
"So that should be why we should avoid going to the reaping" Asher points out.
"Or we could take a chance and possibly find out what the Capitol is planning- if they are planning anything!" Maci sighs, she can tell that Asher isn't totally convinced.
"You can stay behind," Jaxon tells Asher as he wraps an arm around Maci. "But if Maci wants to go then that's a risk I'm willing to take."
"You two are a pain sometimes." Asher grumbles as he pinches the bridge of his nose. His eyes suddenly fluttered open and he meets both of their gazes with an annoyed expression. "Of course I'll be joining you two, but we'll be leaving as soon as the Reaping ends" his tone leaves no room for argument. Not that Maci and Jaxon would want to argue.
It doesn't take long for the three to get ready for the Reaping. They dress casually, not being able to afford anything fancy. The three try to walk as calmly as possible. But there is tension in their shoulders, and they seem to be looking around, expecting trouble, but trouble never comes.
To Lauriam, where home was is simple. Home is in a field of Bird of Paradise flowers, his sister standing amongst her namesake; laughing without a care in the world. Home was the smell of soil and earth, of cat fur as the twin stray cats that Strelizia had taken in began to shed. Again. Home was Strelizia. And Strelizia was home. It was that simple. But home was not were the heart was for Strelizia could not hold what did not exist. Given the chance, and he had been given them multiple times, he would have left her alone, wailing and crying in a dark alley just as their parents had done to him. Like father like son. For what reason did he stick by his sniveling and weak sister's side was a constant topic of thought for him. Perhaps it was because she had nothing in the world apart from him. Lauriam was the sole rock in her life, her protector. Or perhaps it was to satisfy his own twisted desire to be needed, to be wanted, to hold on to that right to still exist because what good is a child who couldn't do anything for anyone? But ultimately, the past is the past and Lauriam had risen above the hurdles life whacked him over the head with and he was now living comfortably, devoting most of his time now to teaching his sister less practical but still important lessons.
But even without a heart, Lauriam was content with his lot in life. He was as kind as he was cruel, his duality keeping other kids from picking on his family. After all, the area that he had lived in for so long wasn't exactly the kindest nor the safest. At least the housing was cheap. Like each morning, Lauriam woke up at 6, crawling out of bed with the rising of the sun. With half lidded eyes, he gently watered the plants living on his window sill, changing into more suitable attire for the day as he made sure that each plant got their needed moisture. After shaking his sister awake (who wouldn't be up for another hour but at this point it was just as much of a habit as it was tradition), Lauriam would heat up yesterday's leftovers before heading out to his shop at 7 sharp, humming as he began to water each plant with meticulous care. Greetings were given and received, shop keepers and shoppers alike giving their morning wishes to the familiar boy with dyed hair. The only difference today was the presence of the "Closed" sign, even as the flowers perked up after their morning watering. With a satisfied nod, Lauriam ducked back into the house, and knocked on Strelizia's door again. "'Litzie, no more '5 more minutes' we'll be late!" He called, plating up the earlier made breakfast. There was a muffled groan from the room before Strelizia finally stumbled out, hair mussed and eyes bleary.
"Laur, where?" She mumbled, nearly tripping over her feet as Luriam handed off her food.
Ruffling her hair, Lauriam led her sister to one of the chairs in the room, sitting her down as he began to run his fingers through her hair. "Reaping, remember? Its a Quarter Quell so we'll have to be careful. I don't know what the theme is this year." Pulling his sister's hair into low hanging pigtails, tying them off with Bird of Paradise stems that he plucked from the nearby plant. Strelizia hummed busy stuffing her cheeks with porridge. It was kind of adorable. With a smile, Lauriam ruffled his sisters hair, ignoring her sounds of complaint as he picked out the nicest clothes that she had to wear to the reaping.
ιт'ѕ α ρяσυ∂ αи∂ ραιиfυℓ σαтн ✧ﾟ･:*
Robin rolled her eyes. "It does that, still can't quite control it yet." The tentacle slowly retracted into Robin's back again. Harmony's eyes flitted about as if trying to see, which in reality, she couldn't. She couldn't see at all since birth having been born blind.
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Please train my Party
My first Gmax, Cream!
My first Gmax, Cream!
Eric had returned to his apartment when the news that the Reaping was about to begin had reached him at work. He had been given leave by his boss, which was rare. But of course, the Reaping meant special circumstances, and special circumstances meant near miracles. He stood in front of his apartment, digging in his pocket for his keys. He finally found them, unlocking the door and stepping inside. A short while later, he was standing in front of a mirror, fiddling with the dark blue tie that matched the dark purple suit that had been a begrudging Christmas gift from one of his coworkers. He may have had a fairly good-paying job, but it didn't mean that he earned any more than enough for the bare necessities. Things were expensive if you weren't in the Capitol. In fact, upon closer inspection, it was clear that this suit was well worn. But it was good enough. And besides, even if Eric was picked, no one would notice those tiny details that were only so clear since he was standing right in front of the mirror. With a deep breath, he straightened his tie, fixed the collar of his shirt, and scooped up his keys and wallet from the bed where he had placed them while preparing for the Reaping. Running a hand through his hair, he quickly made it out of the building, in double time. To most, it would have seemed that he was actually excited for the Reaping. But in truth, Eric just absolutely hated being late for things and it was, after all, a bit of a walk. He started off, joining the groups of people going in the same direction. He blended in rather easily with the crowd, as most had done their best to dress up for the occasion. Good. The only reason that Eric would be stepping into the spotlight would be to join the tributes on the stage. Call it foolish, call it dramatic. Maybe it was even pride. But really, that was just how Eric worked.
Terra and Cherry followed their parents as they were told, their eyes fixed ahead and their backs straight. They were the noble Osiris family, they had to keep up appearances. However, they found that few people actually looked at them. Terra was almost tempted to slouch a little, seeing as nobody was turning towards them. His back did ache... Cherry's whisper broke through his thoughts. "Don't you dare." He straightened up a little, his twin giving a satisfied sigh as they proceeded into the place where the Reaping would soon occur.
(Oop, sorry it's short)
The Peacekeeper fixes the three with an astonished look, the poor girl looks like she is going to faint when she registers that Asher is the one and only Asher Lam, the man who was supposed to be long dead. Asher glares at her and gives her triumphant smile before leading Maci and Jaxon deep into the crowd, far from the Peacekeeper's gaze.
Maci stands next to Angie. At first, she ignores the girl, at least until she realizes that she is alone. She glances around, wondering if her parents might've lost her. Her eyes lift up to glance at the Peacekeeper holding Zoe. An alarmed look crosses over her face and she immediately lowers her head to the ground, trying to act socially invisible.
Jaxon senses her unease and opens his mouth to ask her what was wrong, that's when he notices the Peacekeeper too. He gently grabs her and holds her in front of him, shielding her from his gaze, just in case he happened to look over at them.
Unsurprisingly, it's Maci who ends up calming the two down. She gasps in surprise and pulls Phenix in for a hug. "Phenix? It's good to finally see you again!" She pulls away and beams at him. "It's been forever! How has life been treating you?"
Asher makes a small warning sound in the back of his throat. Both for how loud Maci was, and for what she had said. Maci may trust him, but he certainly did not. Maci ignores this, it felt good to talk to an old friend again. Although she does remind herself that she should avoid drawing unwanted attention.
"I was going to do it later today..." Lauriam defended himself with a laugh but put down some cooked chicken from the night before into the kitten's bowls. He was way too weak for his sister's whims anyways. He also wouldn't admit it ever but the cats were growing on him, the twin animals reminding him a lot of himself and his sister. With the house pests fed and purring content with their lives, the siblings finally set out to the Reaping. While the Ponderosa name wasn't an exactly unknown name ever since his no good father won the games, Lauriam never made an effort to flaunt of his lineage. Certainly he never told Sterlizia about it, preferring to keep the only part of his life untainted by that man's influence far away from the pain the name carried. Keeping his hand in hers, Lauriam led Strelizia into the wealthier areas where signs of their poorer upbringing was more evident. There was a group of Peacekeepers slightly down the road with a girl and a young child so Lauriam steered clear of them keeping his sister close. While he could respect peacekeepers and their duties, it didn't mean that Lauriam had to like them. The stigma that poorer kids like him brought was enough for him to be wary of authority figures. It didn't help that when it was finally their time to be registered for the reaping, both siblings blood was taken a bit more forcefully than the rest, eliciting a pained little yip from Strelizia. "Hey!" Lauriam barked, shooting a glare at the unapologetic peacekeeper. "We're people too, asshole."
"It's not worth it Lauri. Let's just go." Strelizia hurriedly whimpered, pushing him into the reaping arena itself. Lauriam snarled one last time but allowed himself to be pushed away. "You really don't have to do that every time." She sighed once they were situated in a relatively less crowded area. "I can protect myself Lauri. I'm thirteen. When you were thirteen you already opened up shop."
How many times have they talked about this? Lauriam had honestly lost count but it was something their sibling refused to let go of. Stubbornness was an acquired trait after all. "This and that are different, 'Litzie. I'm not letting you go through what I went through and if that makes me overprotective, then so be it." You're already weak enough. As if to prove his unspoken argument, Strelizia muffled a cough into her sleeves, Lauriam frantically pulling out a well worn medicine bottle and uncapping the dented white cap. "See? You don't worry about yourself enough so someone has to." He chided lightly, gently rubbing his sisters back before pressing the home grown herbs into her hand.
ιт'ѕ α ρяσυ∂ αи∂ ραιиfυℓ σαтн ✧ﾟ･:*