Young Writers Society

Ryder

Ryder watched as some of the other tributes were remade into there chosen personas and things. He hoped that his designers wouldn't go too far with he and his female counterpart's costumes. When they came back from remaking her, they got him up and got him into a depressingly dirty minor's uniform. The painted runes and random things in coal dust on his arms and face. The girl had a similar uniform. They were given pickaxes and hardhats.

"Make sure to show off your bravado..." said one of his designers in her annoyingly high pitched capital accent.

When they boarded the chariot, they were greeted with a jolt of movement as the chariot came to a start. They rolled behind the District 11 chariot, Ryder could tell that underneath the smiling and the waving, they were just as miserable as they were.

Ryder and his feminine co-star waved and smiled, laughing as the capital pigs would throw roses and blow kisses. Those ignorant, multicolored animals - he thought to himself.

As the chariots rolled out of view. Ryder let out a huge sigh of relief as he exited. The other tributes were just as relieved. He remembered what Veronica had told him,

"Make yourself know, it helps to give them what they want. That's what I did, but of course in my year they had us completely naked covered in coal dust. Just don't go over the top." he liked Veronica, she was not totally stoic about the games. And she retained her sense of humor.

Ryder looked one last time at the tributes before leaving the Remake Center, the competition was tough. The other district tributes looked strong, but Ryder didn't doubt himself.

I will make them remember me - he thought to himself

No one will forget District 12

I would like to be the district 4 mentor. What should I do? Could you explain some plot, and will I get together with the tributes from 4? Or, if there is actually still a slot open for the girl tribute from 12, because the person who claimed it hasn't written anything, I would like to be that.

Alen Hayward
I was in a black silk suit and black leather shoes this is what the female designer said was classy and when that was done they cut my hair to a short style. My counterpart was walking up beside me she looked great with what she had on. The silk was more likely made by district 8 because last I heard district 1 did have time for that kind of work and that's why we in the last year started to make silk. Distict 8 makes natural cloth from anything like animal pelts to many other things.

We started to the chariot and are designer where still fussing with are look and telling use "don't fall and remember to smile and look lively."
"Ok can you calm down you starting to make me freak out" said Alen.
"Well you have to be perfect to go out there" said both the designers at the same time.
"Well we are and I know that everyone will love this " said Luce.
We got out to the chariot just in time and where off I was all most hyperventilating because I was so scared then when I look at Luce I calmed down. We started to wave and cheered when we saw the people of the capital inside I was not doing the same I was yelling leave "me alone you ugly people stop making use kill each other."

Veronica: 12 mentor

Finally, it is time. Veroncia sees her two tributes walk in. Their faces are flawless with make-up. They look great from the neck up, because from the neck down is that ugly coal miner uniform. " Look you will do great. Smile, wave and be what they expect you to be and more. You are the last to ride in, so make them remember you." she says. "But, if you get worried, don't picture anyone in their underwear. It does not work." They laugh together. Veroncia give them each a hug. " Oh and one last thing, you two are so lucky you get to wear clother. Try having to do all this complety naked with a hint of coal dust." That really got them laughing. She helps them on to their Chariot and run fast to be in the audience. She wanted to see them ride in. She saw all the other tributes (looking great in their outfits) standing tall and proud, a wave here and there. When the district 12 chariot comes in to her view, the crowd goes wild . They are smiling and waving. They look like they are having a good time. Ryder spots Veroncia. She gives him a nod and smile. Veroncia starts to clap and scream for her tributes as they make their lap around.

Aaarrrggghhhhh!!!!!!!!Q

Nya: District 4

I studied myself in the mirror. I was wearing a sexy, loose dress that was made out of a fishing net material (with a light blue sash underneath, of course, although it was hardly noticable) and my hair was put up in a cool bun with smaller braids running through my hair. On my face I had blue fish-scale make-up near my eyes and silver lips, with my finger and toe nails flashing in the same color. I'd have to say that I looked pretty hot.

"Come along, Nya, your chariot is ready!" my designer said at the door. I had to contain myself from rolling my eyes. I hated her dumb accent and her stupid cheerful attitude, as if this were a holiday instead of me going to my death. But I guess she did know some stuff about fashion, so her life wasn't a complete fail.

Ignoring my designer, I flashed my perfect, white smile the mirror; sexy, inoccent, coy and confident, all at the same time, I was going to knock the socks off of these stupid, ugly capitol people. After one last look in the mirror, I lifted my chin, turned on my heel, and walked past my designer and onto my chariot. The chariot's metal floor was cold when my bare feet touch it. That was part of my costum, no shoes, I guess they wanted me as bare as possible. And who could blame them? When you've got a great figure like mine, you have to show it off.

The boy from my district got onto the chariot beside me and I stared at him. He looked rediculous. He was topless and wore a tunic-thing on his lower half, and he was holding a trident. I think he was supposed to be an ancient god, Poseidon, or something. I would have laughed if it weren't for the fact that we were sharing a chariot and he made me look bad. For that reason, I glared at him and scooted to the opposite side of the chariot, as far away as possible from him. If he screws up my chances, I'm going to kill him, I thought, and then snickered as I realised the pun, that I would most likely kill him anyways.

Our designers came over and mine started pulling at the wrinkles in my dress and making sure it fell the right way. This time I did roll my eyes, but I let her do her work. As she fidgeted with my dress and hair, I let my eyes wander over the other tributes. Most of them were older and tough looking, but some where young and weak and, quite frankly, ugly under all of their make-up that the designers used to try to cover it up. As I continued to look at them, I caught some people looking at me, probably doing the same thing I was, sizing everyone up. Whenever I caught a guy's eye, I smiled flirtiously and he normally blushed and looked away. But one guy, someone from chariot 1, didn't drop his gaze, but instead simply looked at me cooly. I looked him over and I gotta admit he looked "delicious": tan, muscular built (from illigal game training, no doubt), dark hair and a peirced ear. I smiled at him and rested a hand on my hip, bringing attention to my curves. His gaze wandered, but then he look me in the eye and smirked. Two can play the game; I smirked back.

Suddenly the line of chariots lurched foreward and I put on my automatic, perfect smile. Here we go.

Fiske Reede, District 9

As the chariot rolled out into the sunlight, Fiske blinked, he was blind; all the lights were on them now. The screams that met their arrival caused him to go deaf, blind and deaf. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, Fiske glanced over at his partner; she was wearing a light green, satin dress with a little yellow mixed in. Their designer didn't overdo it on the make-up thankfully. Her make-up was on light, her lipstick was clear, not that thick red stuff. He, however, was wearing a forest green tuxedo to match his eyes. His hair was slick and combed; his partner's was drawn up in a tight bun with flower decorations in it. As their chariot pulled forward, Fiske looked up at the giant television, they were stunning. The crowd gasped, cheered and screamed. Fiske remembered his mentor's advice, 'make them want you, win them over. Fiske grinned at the crowd and puffed his chest out slightly, to show off his pin. It was a dove with a sword grasped in its talons. It symbolized peace, the dove, the sword stood for hope. When peace failed them, they would always have hope, to fight back.

Des District 10 Tribute

I wanted to run and hide from all the eyes. How could this have happened? Poor, shy little Des gets picked to kill and be famous. My legs shook under all of the attention, I wanted to throw up.

My designer shot me a look as if to tell me ‘Stop it or you won’t survive.’ But instead he said, “Relax and smile. They love you.”

It was a lie. Some of the capitol higher-ups looked at me with mixed skepticism and cruel amusement. I remembered what my father said. It’s all a show. Don’t let that get to you. You’re better… so much better than that.
I took a deep breath and looked away from all the people. Finn, the lead designer, was finishing up my dress. It was a light brown, knee length dress to contrast my dark skin, lined with fur. My counterpart was forced to wear the similar color with fur lining his vest. He held a staff in his hand.

Finn outlined our eyes with contrasting colors of soil-powder before leading us out in the open. The crowd cheered for the tributes as we were paraded down through the capitol. It’s all a show.

Bronze Synclas, District 1 ~ Part 1: The Chariot Ride

My designer fussed over me, as her male counterpart did to Stella, the other tribute from District 1. I sighed and looked around, seeing everyone else's designers picking at pieces of clothing on them, too. Finally, my designer seemed ok with my outfit, hair, and makeup and let me on the chariot.

Stella and I were both dressed in white. I, wore only a pair of white shorts. They contrasted with my dark skin (so unlike the skin tone of most people from District 1) and showed off my well muscled legs. I had diamond dust sprinkled on me, but in strategic places, like my abs, biceps, quads, and calves. Underneath the dust, I'd been greased so I glistened and sparkled.
I liked to think of myself as a dark diamond.

A minute or two before the chariots rode out of the Remake Building, I let my eyes go around to all the female participants. I'd slide them down their bodies, and back up, being sure to catch their eyes and mouth to them if I liked them or not. Most of them, weren't really worthy of me, except, perhaps the District 4 girl. She was blond, pale, and innocent yet sexy. I was just coming to her when I noticed she was watching me. She smiled flirtatiously and I looked coolly back at her, thinking for a second to see what kind of game she was playing as I let my eyes travel up and down her slim, well toned body.
She saw me checking her out and placed a hand on her hip, really showing off her curves for me. I smirked appreciatively and she looked me in the eye and gave a sexy little smirk back. I almost raised my eyebrows in surprise, but the chariots started moving, and I looked forwards, holding my head high and looking into the crowd.

There were just as many women as usual, from what I remembered of when I watched the Hunger Games on my television. I gave all the rich-looking ones smouldering glares and heard quite a few 'oooh!'s and 'aaahh!'s in return. I gave a lazy grin and continued with my game of searching for the best sponsors and making them think they had a chance with me.

Soon, the chariot ride was over and I was satisfied I'd done well for myself. I glided out of the District 1 chariot and immediately searched the crowd of tributes, looking for the girl from 4.
I wanted to see what she wanted, and what she could give to me.

Malaya Shearvine, District 7 ~ Part 1: The Chariot Ride


My hair was dyed green, my face painted with layers of leaves, and my body clad in textured brown fabric. My hands were painted with the same layer pattern as my face and I had fake green contacts in my eyes.

I decided to not look at myself and just ignore everyone in the crowd, instead of fishing for sponsors. I was just going to die, so why waste other people's money on me? There was no reason.

I took up a grimace on my face and looked around; most of the other tributes wore things relating to their district, too. Except the tributes from 8 (the boy wore a suit and the girl an evening dress. They were from textiles, not Capitol luxuries...), 9 (they wore green and yellow... What has that got to do with grain and food?), and 10 (they were dressed as, what looked like, almost fur-less beavers. Beavers were definitely not livestock animals, either, last time I'd checked).

The boy from District 1 seemed to be looking everyone over. No, not everyone, just the girls, he'd started at 12, and would let his eyes travel-- oh. Oh, how inappropriate. Especially for the girl from 11, she looked young, too young for his greedy, smirking face.

He got to me and I looked and turned away, not letting him get satisfaction from me. When I looked back he gave me a grin and continued on to the girl from 6, who seemed to get unnerved by him.

I shook my head, disgusted, and looked over at my tribute counterpart, Kahn.

Suddenly, the chariots lurched forwards and I fell into Kahn. "Oh! I'm so sorr-." I started to say, but he shook his head, then turned away and looked into the cameras, giving everyone and everything a half-smile. I gave a small shrug, then turned and did the same.
If he didn't want my apologies, he didn't need to take them.

After the chariot ride, our mentor helped us down from the carriage and continued talking about what would happen next. She was as talkative as our representative, or whoever the crazy-looking woman was that pulled out names out of the glass ball back in District 7.

Rayda

I was dressed in an elegant gold and silver dress, one of the many my designer favored for me, with a small lightening bolt painted on my left cheek to represent District 5. My designer loved the whole look for me, clapping in glee, while I would have much rather been in something easier to move around in. The only thing that did look normal was the braid in my hair, wrapping around the top of my head with the end hanging down the right side of my face.

Stepping onto the chariot, I sized up my male counter-part. He was topless, like most of the other boys, with pants much like my dress. His skin was covered in gold and silver dust, and a lightening bolt like my own was painted on the front of one of his shoulders. We look ridiculous.

"Be sure to smile!" My designer reminded us just before the chariot began to move. My stomach tightened with nervousness and I sighed, plastering my most confident smirk. I hope this works.

Khan: District 7

I pulled on the bottom of my red plaid shirt, out of habit, and my designer came over and scolded me and tucked the shirt back in. "Khan, it is Khan, right?" I nodded. "Khan, you can't pull your shirt out, you must have the perfect look, and as your head designer, I decided that you look best with your shirt tucked in. Ok?" I simply nod again. My designer sighed as if saying your hopless, and then left. I'm dressed as a lumber jack, I suppose. I have a red plaid shirt on with the sleeves rolled up, kaki pants, my hair spiked and a bandana is wrapped around my head. My face is smeared with fake dirt to give me the "dirty tough guy" look, which I think is ridiculous. I went through all of those baths and all of that scrubbing just to get dirty again. In my hand I'm holding a large, dangerous-looking axe, although I can tell it's fake, and the blade is dulled. I wiggle my toes, which are in a pair of nice working boots. I'm used to wearing hand-me-down boots from my older brothers and I simply love these, I mean, imagine how much easier I can work with these on. I hope I can bring them into the Games with me.

I looked around and saw everyone else had on these fancy, elaborate outfits and mine looked really dull in comparison. Which probably won't get me much sponsers. What was my designer thinking? I thought getting upset.

At that moment, Malaya walked in the chariot looking like a tree. She laughed when she looked at my outfit. "Will you promise not to chop me down if I stand next to you?" she said, gesturing to my ax. I smiled.

I didn't know her well, but I did know of her because we lived in the same neighborhood before this happened. Now both of us would die. No, no, only she would die. I was going to live, for my brother, for Tiven. That thought saddened me. That if I was to win, that would mean everyone around me had to die.

Suddenly the chariot jerked foreward and Malaya bumped into me. "Oh, I'm sor-" But I stopped her with a shake of my head and looked away. I didn't want to get to know her, I didn't want her to feel bad, it would make it harder when she died.

Fern Abilene; District One, Mentor; Part One- Chariots

I hadn't looked at their faces as their names were called, gluing them to their fates, but I'd practically memorized them by now. They both looked gorgeous in their costumes- or lack thereof. Bronze looked like he was about to seduce every girl in the room, and Stella glowed with confidence that was beyond her age.

Yet one- if not both- of them would die a painful death.

They were perpared, though; they were District Ones too. I needed to let go of the past if I was ever going to help these tributes survive. Wishing vainly that Exavier was here- he would know how to handle flirty Bronze, being that he'd used the same strategy- I smoothed the last wrinkle from my green dress. Although never noticed, we mentors usually dresses well in the sake of our tributes. My dress had been thrown at meby the frivoulous deaigner, but it suited me well. It's rich green color fit snug around my well-toned body, and the slits went far enough up my thigh to attract a few who is she? from the audience.

I watched as District One proudly led the way for the Chariot's, their bodies glimmering with dust. The rest of the District's seemed dull by comparison, and they halted in quiet formation, a mere mimick of the District One's glory.

Although, perhaps I'm a bit partial.

Smiling to myself at the sucess of my tributes with minimal nudging from me, I felt that I was in a good enough to mood to socialize while my tributes plotted. With who, I hadn't a clue.

Luce Avery, District 8

My hands were sweating and I clenched them tight, praying to god that I didn't as bad as I felt inside. The creamy, almost golden silk that hugged my waist and flowed down around my legs were the only thing that calmed me. This was familiar; the feel of material against my skin brought back the memories of when I was just another budding weaver with the potential of becoming a somebody. My hair was threaded together in a complicated design of braids and curls with gold-dipped almond blossoms and forget me nots weaved into it; two things on my tribute symbol that hung around my neck. They didn't put a lot of makeup on me though it was enough to make me question myself if the girl with the golden glow in the mirror was really me. Everything happened so fast that all I could do was try hold myself together.

Now, I sat in a chariot just outside the ring of strangers with Alen being the only thing that kept me on my feet. He looked over at me and slapped on a sloppy grin, though I could still see uneasiness in his eyes. With a deep breath, I reached towards Alen's hand and grasped it tight for support. He squeezed back.

I tilted my chin up, lowered my eyelids and set my lips into a firm straight line. The chariot crept forward and carried us towards the blur of shouts, flashes and blinding spotlights.

Edur Stravajok,
District 11 Male Tribute,
The Chariot ride

Edur sat in silence, watching Flabine, his female designer, flattening out his terrible sparkly, scarlett red and moss green jumpsuit. His elbow was resting on the window sill of the chariot and his chin was resting in his palm.
"Flabine," Edur complained.
"Sorry, sorry darling. You need to look perfect for the cameras."
Edur sighed,he was very calm, but very bored. He just wanted to get out their and win, he hated all this stuff, the preperation and the dressing up, just to impress a bunch of rich Capitol idiots. The whole thing was stupid.
Music ereupted and trumpets blared. The whole stadium exploded in noise, everyone shouting and cheering and clapping.
The designers for District 11 said something, but Edur did't hear it over the noise.
"Hold you heads high," was what he heard when they spoke again.
Everyone was screaming and running around excited, filled with ecstacy. This was the biggest event of the year, and the stupidest.
The Gates swung open and District one's chariot slowly moved inside the stadium.
They were like cows in a slaughterhouse, being prepared and prettied by the farmers. Making them look good for our deaths. Ugly, stinking farmers.
"Are you ready?"
Edur spun around. Reed, his District 11 counterpart had spoken.
Edur didn't want to reply, so grunted and mumbled, "this is terrible."
Reed laughed. What was so funny? thought Edur. It was terrible, and he wasn't talking about the clothing.
"I can honestly say I've never had an emarald stuck to the side of my face," Reed spoke again.
Edur ignored it but took a quick glance at Reed's cheek. She had a diamond tree hanging off it. Edur felt his cheek, sure enough, so did he.
The chariot took off and Reed slipped forwards. Edur stuck out a hand and rescued her, then resumed his percission; but not for long. He sat up straight and smiled, it was a terrible smile, but it was still a smile. He had never really done it before, so didn't know where to percission his mouth. He realised by looking bored, he gave the gist of a depressed loser, with no chance at winning, but he wasn't. He was just bored.
Edur peered at the camera, then cracked up laughing. He had a fantastic grin on his face and he tried to cover his mouth, to prevent him from laughing.
The Capitol were a big joke, they were pathetic, and so were the hunger games. And Edur though it was funny.
They were pigs, eating and drinking the food that the districts gro and provide, but you had to feel sorry for the. They didn't know the meaning of life, it was sad, pathetic, disgusting, terrible. But it was hilarious!
At least the evening is providins some entertainment, thought Edur.