Well, it seems unlike the other districts, Four has been taking things quietly.
I thought I would make this thread for Tributes to post up what they are currently working on so the rest of the district can make suggestions, fix grammar, point out typos, or just tell them what they think of their submission as a whole and thus 'sponsor' them?
Good idea?
Sponsor us tributes!
10 posts in this topic.
-
-
Retro here! If anyone from the district could give me some
General prose tips it would be greatly appreciated! -
Wouldn't it be more helpful if you post what you've got and we give you tips from there?
-
That sounds like a good idea. Here's mine:
The rustling ahead of me grows steadily louder and the ferocity of my pulse rockets up in direct proportion. The night is so dark I feel suffocated so I'm clueless as to the noise's source: a fellow Tribute or something the Gamemakers conjured up. I fear the Gamemakers' creations more but I would much prefer a rabid shark-headed dog to a human I have to kill. I cast my hand right to feel for my companion.
“James?” I whisper.
James growls lowly in reply. I don't know why I was so careless, given the tendency of dogs to bark when they're frightened. Luckily, this particular mutt seems to be so spooked that he has become aware of the danger surrounding him. My stomach has been growling loud enough to wake a coma patient so I don't need James adding to that. I regretted not opting for a pep talk from my idol, James McAvoy, so I gave the Labrador his name as a compromise. I could do with a pep talk right about now.
Abruptly, the rustling becomes a thrashing and is accompanied by a few muffled yet distinctly human shrieks of agony. Clearly whatever is behind the gloomy row of bushes is not coming for me. I beckon James to heel and crawl with him on all fours a few yards to the left. The thrashing is violent, desperate. I am eager to escape whatever has brought a hunting Tribute to their knees.
Once we are at least the length of two swimming pools away I pat James' flank to suggest a rest
“Do you think it's safe to stand up, boy?” I whisper. I don't know what I'm hoping for. James sniffs out poison, not danger.
I ruffle the fur on James' head and find his ears pricked rigidly upwards. I thought the fight over but apparently my inferior human senses of hearing and smell have crept out of range. I stand, weak from the hunger, and rest my hand in the space between James' ears. The cannon declares with a bang the death of my pursuer and yet James still does not move. He waits for what must be at least twenty minutes, before whipping his head around to nuzzle my hand and plodding forwards through the fallen leaves of the forest.
After a few seconds of steady pacing, James seems to have deemed the situation defused. He picks his pace up to a lively trot and yaps at me to follow suit.
“You have four legs and the muscle strength of a champion swimmer,” I grumble, “It's harder for me.”
James yaps louder and ploughs yet further ahead.
“James!” I cry, “Be careful.”
It seems that while James has developed a sufficient sense of danger, he has not been granted any common sense. Why couldn't it have been a poison sniffing cat? It would probably eat me if it got hungry enough but it would also be far less likely to barrel straight into a clearing where a human being has just been murdered by … I don't even want to think by what.
“James?” I huff as I reach the bushes. I screw up my eyes to find him and am rewarded with a gap in the bushes.
I duck under a low hanging branch that I see only a suggestion of in the blanket of shadows. Once through the hedge, I shake off a few twigs and am greeted by James' piercing green eyes shining out to me like a beacon.
“Boy?” I whisper warily, “What happened?”
James nuzzles a limp bundle on the forest floor. I clench my stomach – which is difficult given the pangs that are already cramping it – and sink to the ground. I slide onto my knees and reach out my hands. There is a lanky body beneath my palms. A flat chest with that height means this was a boy and judging by the stocky strength in his arms, I'd have been no match for him.
No. I am not glad that this boy is dead. That thought is very probably worse than trying to kill him. For one thing, I wouldn't have succeeded.
I trace my fingers down his arm to his hand. If he had indeed been hunting me, there was bound to be a weapon in one of his hands – or both. His right hand is sticky from a dark liquid – presumable blood. I don't feel the hilt of anything and as I am reaching over to his left hand it strikes me that so far I have come across no wounds on his body. My entire being tenses but I continue to reach over him. I have to find a weapon. I've been three days in the arena and still not even picked up a dagger.
His left hand is lathered in the same sticky coat as his right but this time I know it isn't blood. Miniature globules of juicy flesh are tumbling out of his hand as I disturb it. Berries. I presume instinctively that they are poisonous and must have killed him. Then, of course, it occurs to me that James is still hovering somewhere nearby.
“James?” I murmur. I am still not totally convinced this boy is dead, despite the cannon.
I feel his paws nudge at me and clamber over me to sniff at the berries. James whimpers but does not bark, as I he has done previously when he has come across dangerous food.
“Are they okay, boy?” I suggest. He has deliberated for quite some time and still does not retreat to let me at the precious nutrition.
James whimpers again but shuffles back to my side. I lunge my outstretched hand in a claw at the berries and scoop up a handful. As I cram them into my mouth, until my cheeks are stretched to their widest possible surface area, I almost choke with dread. The berries didn't kill the boy – and they're not going to kill me – but what did kill him?
“James, go!” I cry.
James nudges forlornly at me but turns to make his escape from an approaching band of fog. The day must have been dull. It would appear the Gamemakers are hunting Tributes out now, one by one. The white smoke – which unfurls through the gap in the hedges that I had wriggled through only moments ago – is sure to be my end. I see glittering motes of a deadly liquid hovering within its clouds and sigh. I am glad it is the Gamemakers taking me out, not a fellow Tribute. Just one less kid to turn into a murderer – two, if you count the fact that I will never be taking anyone's life now. I let my eyes glide shut and await the end.
James' barking is louder than I could ever have imagined. He has a pitifully short branch clamped between his jaws but nonetheless he thrusts one end of it into my palm, which is still running with the juices of the berries – which must have been the sticky coat on the boy's hands. He jerks me onto my back and methodically paces backwards.
I howl in terror as agony seizes me. Is it the fog? Has James been too slow? It would appear not. James grunts (apologetically?) but continues onwards regardless. I think he may have dislocated my shoulder. He picks up his pace, despite my shrieks of pain as I judder over rocks and cracks in the ground. He growls loud enough to frighten off any mortal predator and drags me faster, faster until I am sure we must be flying.
He eventually pants to a stop, having broken pretty much every bone in my body. It doesn't matter though. Capitol citizens adore cute animals. I'm already getting breakfast sent down to me courtesy of James' lopsided canine grin. I am confident that his elevation to hero status will open the gate for a steady stream of painkillers to flow down to me in those deviously charming boxes that hold gifts from the viewers.
James lets out a low pitched whine that I assume is close to a contented sigh. I feel a sharp spike of relief that I did not choose the pep talk from the real James McAvoy. This James may not be able to debate superhero fantasies with me, but his human namesake would definitely never have had the resolve to keep dragging me despite my injuries.
I flop onto the forest floor, which is harder here and with more rocks. James nuzzles under my head and I realise he's assigned himself the role of pillow.
“Thank you, James,” I whisper.
I am too shocked to feel the pain, though I know it will catch me tomorrow. No matter, I have survived one more day – and that's the best I can hope for in here.
(1502 words) -
Be careful at your opening sentence.
"of my pulse rockets up in direct proportion"
That doesn't really make sense. How can a pulse rocket in direct proportion? I think this is a poor choice of opening words. Maybe just end the sentence at rockets up. The rest is cool. Good job.
I'll post my first draft in a minute. -
My incredibly picturesque journey to the land of Hunger Games.
Once upon a time, in a land of danger and despair, there were twenty four young tributes, who had been ordered by the grand king of the realm to battle to their deaths. Among these cursed souls was a handsome prince by the name of me.
The king was a very cruel and evil man, and had not provided the chosen warriors with any proper weapons to aid in the slaughter of one another and instead had bestowed upon the tributes a choice of one of five magical items.
These items were: A small piece of rope, no longer than the foot of a very large man, a cloak of invisibility whose powers were revealed beneath the shimmering moon, a magical lamp, rumoured to grant the wish of a person's most foodly desires, a renowned entertainers from around the lands who was to encourage a tribute, and a mighty hound with the power to sense dangerous potions.
Now, in woe this prince fretted over what he should pick, a canine beast would not turn so loyal when it was hungry, and the jesters seemed not to provide much aid but time was running short, and if he wished to survive even a moment longer he had to grab the closet magical artefact he could see, which in this case, was the mysterious jinn lamp. He gathered it up and hurried away into the wilderness of the enclosed arena, leaving some of the other warriors to fight amongst one another to the death.
But not every one of the tributes chose to give their lives such a brief end. Many of the others too, fled toward the great unknown edges of the area, preparing themselves for the hunt and the fear of being hunted.
Upon grown tired and his young legs weary, the prince collapsed upon a clearing in the dense forest. He was not only tired but also lost, with no idea of which direction was which. The forest was dark and lonely, and was home to many birds and other tributes. Feeling completely forlorn he took the lamp up to the light and gazed upon its sheen, wondering what he could ever do with it in order to survive.
The prince knew that if he waited around and took no action he would surely be finished, but what use would a simple meal bestow him? Sighing heavily he rubbed the lamp and it began to shine brightly before a thin whisper of red smoke rose from its end. The smoke curled and twisted, spiralling around the princes head until it formed into the shape of a face.
"What food do you desire?" It asked with its wispy tongue.
"Oh great Jinn!" He cried to the magical being. "Is it true that you can grant me any request of food that I ask of you?"
"Aye that is correct, young tribute." The jinn confirmed. "But you only get one wish and only one."
"Well...." The choice was difficult, and there was only one to be made. But it must be made quickly before it was too late.
"I wish.... For a life sized sweet gingerbread house that has that has the ability to capture suspecting and unsuspecting children!" The prince sang, leaping up with new found fervour. The jinn bowed his head before swirling and swirling up and around. The prince was astonished at the sight before him, as a magical cottage constructed entirely out of edible sweets materialized itself between the trees. The grass was made of icing sugar, and the walls of solid ginger bread. The eves were rimmed with colourful lollies and the door made of dark chocolate biscuit.
Jumping for joy, the prince raced into the house, laughing at the achievement before him. He got to work right away, preparing the house to lure in any tributes that may wander his way.
They will either be too scared to enter, or they will walk right into my trap! He thought. He got to work preparing the rock candy oven, and the cane cages, laughing under his breath. As soon as a child wandered into the proximity, he would feast like a king! Like a king! He would eat every one of the other tributes until he was crowned the true king of the arena, Hunger Tournament!! -
I posted mine as a literary work (which means you can get points in addition to helping me ;D )
Entry
Thanks! -
Here is mine! But sadly I'm not used to writing prose so this sucks!
My feet shuffle slightly on the podium as I watched the giant yellow letters count down. I can see the other tributes, mainly careers learning forward ready to run towards the cornucopia as soon as the claxon sets off. I gulp slight as it nears in. Four, three, two, one….I start into a run. The grass around me stretches off into a darkened wood and then I know where I’m going. I hear a deafening scream, someone has fallen. I near closer to the cornucopia and see both tributes from nine strewn on the floor, blood still seeping from their necks. I quickly scan my surroundings, I know someone is close by. The other tributes are starting to get closer to me so I start scanning the inside of the golden horn. There is a plethora of sterile iron weapons; daggers, swords, axes. I read for one of the swords leant against a crate, but am quickly knocked back by the butt of an axe. The female tribute from six stands above me, axe ready to strike down, that is until an arrow pierces her through the neck. I didn’t see my saviour but I quickly jumped inside the cornucopia start rummaging for anything that I know will save me. Look Ross, look! I mutter to myself as I’m trudging through daggers and arrows. The sounds from outside reverberate of the high arched walls, screams and laughter echo into a painful melody composed by the Capitol. Then I hear something I wasn’t expecting, a bark. I quickly round to see a King Charles spaniel cowering in the corner. Her coat is white and brown, her eyes floppy and long. I can see in her eyes an unimaginable fear, and I know I must look the same.
“Come here girl.” I offer. She tilts her head slightly. “I’m not going to hurt you”
“What is that mutt doing here?!” A male voice runs out, the dog’s head span towards her accuses making her whimper even further. I grab the handle of one of the swords by my side and stand up to face him. It’s the boy from 12. He is trying to look tough but he can’t be more than 13 and stands at around 5 foot. He backs off slightly, before tripping over a bag on the floor. Exactly what I need I thought to myself. As I move towards the dog jumps into me knocking me into the side of the cornucopia, winding me slightly. The boy from twelve has found his feet and has in his hands the backpack. I want to curse and tackle him until I notice his hands have started to blacken. His pale and pasty hands have started to turn sanguine. Like vines it climbs up his arms, it disappears until his black outfit before reappearing at his neck. Within a few seconds his entire body has turned to the colour of coal. He drops the floor leaving a thud which echoes throughout the horn. I look down at the dog, she wags her tail as I do. Her eyes have lightened slightly and I think she trusts me. I have an ally that I certainly wasn’t expecting. The screams have subdued and I know the careers will be coming to plunder the horn any second now. I nod to the dog and we sprint out of the horn towards the vast forest before us. As I’m sprinting away I feel a blade dig into the side of my leg flooring me. I turn to see a career holding handful of daggers. She is smiling revealing a plethora of sharp teeth, she appears more like a shark and I am her prey. I close my eyes tight, the blackness comforts me as I accept the end is coming. The blade has buried itself deep into the leg and I know there is no point trying to fight it. I heard a blood curdling scream and expect the end to come. Nothing. After a few moments I feel a gentle licking at the hand. I wearily open my eyes to see the career on the floor surrounded by daggers. The dog wags its tail, she is definitely an ally. I look down at the blade, blood seeps from the gash and is running down the handle. I tighten my hand around the blade before ripping it out. I bite the inside of my lip to stop myself screaming and bringing any unwanted attention. I carefully move onto my feet, the pain sears up my leg. I hold a moment to stop myself blacking out. Colours cascade before my eyes and a sickness sits in my stomach. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I limp as fast as I can to the forest edge, the pain in my leg is barely bearable but I make it there eventually with the dog quick to my heels. -
Thanks Blackwood.
For yours:
'These items were: A small piece of rope' - You don't need a capital 'A'.
'Upon grown tired and his young legs weary' - I think it would be 'growing tired' and 'legs wearying'.
'spiralling around the princes head until it formed into the shape of a face.
"What food do you desire?" It asked with its wispy tongue.' - Firstly, you missed the apostrophe in 'prince's'. Also, the capital 'I' for it should be lowercase. In the next few sentences you have a full stop even though the speech is described by a speech verb. Use a comma (or ?,! etc) and then a lower case letter.
'"But you only get one wish and only one."' - I think I would take out the first 'only'.
'They will either be too scared to enter, or they will walk right into my trap! He thought' - lower case 'he' and italics for the thoughts but I don't think replies let you do that so you may have done that anyway.
'Hunger Tournament!!' - I'm not sure if this is an artistic point but I think just the one exclamation mark. -
'My feet shuffle slightly on the podium as I watched the giant yellow letters count down.' - You change tense at the 'watched'. I did that too and had to work through a whole half of it.
'I gulp slight as it nears in' - it should be 'slightly'.
'I hear a deafening scream, someone has fallen' - I think a semi-colon would work better here.
'I near closer to the cornucopia' - I don't think you need the 'closer'.
'I quickly scan my surroundings, I know someone is close by.' - These should be separate sentences.
'iron weapons; daggers, swords, axes. I read' - This should be a colon and 'reach'.
'but I quickly jumped inside the cornucopia start rummaging for anything that I know will save me.' - 'jump' and 'to start'.
'The sounds from outside reverberate of the high arched walls' - no need for the 'of'.
'Then I hear something I wasn’t expecting, a bark.' - this should be a colon.
'“Come here girl.” I offer' - this full stop should be a comma
'A male voice runs out, the dog’s head span towards her accuses making her whimper even further. ' - 'spinning', 'accuser'.
'Exactly what I need I thought to myself' - I'd put a comma before the second 'I'. And also, it should be 'think'.
'As I move towards the dog jumps into me knocking me into the side of the cornucopia' - what does the dog move towards?
You mention 'twelve' where previously you have used '12'. It doesn't really matter which you use but you have to be consistent.
'I look down at the dog, she wags her tail as I do.' - either 'who wags her tail' or separate the clauses into two sentences.
'As I’m sprinting away I feel a blade dig into the side of my leg flooring me.' - comma before 'flooring me'.
'She is smiling revealing a plethora of sharp teeth, she appears more like a shark and I am her prey.' - comma after 'smiling' and again this should be a separate sentence. Be careful with that.
That's pretty much it but just be very careful about using a comma where it should be a full stop.
Sign in to reply to this topic.
Delete this post?
Are you sure you want to delete this post? This cannot be undone.