CONTEST CLOSED. RESULTS POSTED


This contest is based along the Hunger Games - if you have never heard/read/seen The Hunger Games before do not panic. You do not need any knowledge as everything you will need will be explained at the beginning of each round. But if you would like to, you can click HERE to read a summary. Writing is encouraged, but not necessary! Hope you enjoy


Link to external image


Background
Panem is divided into twelve districts and the Capitol. Each year a male and female (aged between twelve and eighteen) are randomly selected from each district to take part in the Hunger Games - a televised competition where the twenty-four participants must fight one another. The games will end when there is one survivor.


Saturday 26th July 2243 - Day Of The Reaping

It's that day again. The day where the whole of your district must gather outside to see who's going to represent them in the Hunger Games.

You join the thousands of people in the street and look at the stage. Waiting to find out if it's your turn.

Your mayor walks onto the stage, over to the bowl in the center. In it contains the name of every twelve to eighteen year old in the district, some entered more than once.

He starts by pulling out the male's name. From the distance you hear a mother's cry as her twelve year old son is called out. A hand shoots up - the boys older brother has volunteered to take his place. The boy stands tall on the stage, trying to cover up his fear. But you see through his facade.

Now it's time to pull out a female's name. Your legs start to shake, your heart races as the mayor calls out the name


Task
It's up to you whether your name gets called out, or whether you volunteer to take someone else's place (like your sister's of you friend's). But you must end up on that stage to take part in The Hunger Games one way or another

So for this round, you must fill in this form below, and include your piece of writing if you so wish

Name: *Your character's name*
Age: *Must be between twelve and eighteen*
District Number: *See below for options. Any districts in red are not available, so please do not choose one that's red. However, please note it may take me a while to update so see what other Fashionistas have posted as theirs' too
Photo: *What your character's wearing on the day of the reaping*

Last edited by Fashion-Chic (05/10/2015 at 22:06)

Name: Anjah Capricorn
Age: 17
District Number: 8

Anjah's reaping

I live in a world of darkness.

Industrial smog hangs thick in the sky, choking off any life that wriggles out from the ground. We live in a constant abyss, our days and nights intermingling underneath that harsh layer of black smoke. Factories pack District 8, each of them churning out beautiful garments its people will never get the luxury to wear. The finished products are shipped off to the Capitol in massive convoys. piles and piles of clothes mount up in supply trains; just like the bodies of those who died to make them.

District 8 is no place to live. It cannot sustain life- it's a surprise anyone is born there at all. Every day world weary citizens allow the black death to enter their lungs and draw the life out. Sallow, washed-out faces of seamstresses are everywhere, their youth and beauty stolen by hours of hard work by dim candlelight. They are paid barely enough to sustain their children.

I know that life is unfair. I have known this since the day I was pulled from the womb and severed from the warm comfort of my mother forever. I was her fifth child, only three of which had survived through infancy. She died soon after.

When my father was killed in an industrial accident I was left with a choice: rely on my older, resentful brothers or try to carve a place for myself in the little world of District 8. I chose the latter, struggling to survive on the meagre wages I received as a weaver. The looms ran all hours of the day; their thrumming a constant reminder of the life I was born into. I wove together wool and cotton until the skin on my fingers broke and bled- but soon they would heal, and I found the skin on my palms smooth and hard.

I became resilient. Each day I drew the black smoke into my lungs, daring it to kill me, to give me an illness I couldn't dispel. But that day never came.

Soon enough I found myself promoted to the position of seamstress. The work was hard and the hours long, but the pay was much better than what I received in the mill. For the first time in a long time I had a roof over my head, and enough food to eat. I had almost forgotten what it meant to be full.

And then I discovered something else: I loved my work. I loved the feel of the fabric in my hands, the rhythmic 'snip snip' of my sewing scissors, the power of shaping the fabric into a garment of clothing I'd designed.

I took pride in my work- I loved it more than anything. It became my dream to one day save enough money to visit the Capitol; I hoped that there I would be noticed, not as a helpless child from District 8 but as a successful seamstress who made the most fashionable clothing people had ever seen.

But my dream was crushed, as all dreams usually are, on the day of the Reaping.

I arrived in a hand-sewn outfit made from scraps of material I had kept from my various sewing projects. The pavilion was already packed with people; our mayor was stood on stage with two large globes that held the names of the girls and boys within District 8. I knew I was eligible, but I never thought that in a million years I would be chosen.

The mayor selected the candidate for the boys- a 15 year old who wept as he ascended to the stage. I found the display quite pitiful, despite responding with the vacant heartless gaze shared by the rest of the crowd. The mayor then moved to the girl's globe.

And the name he read out loud and clear from that simple scrap of paper was mine.

I knew then, as I walked through a sea of people that parted solemnly for my passing, that my dream would never come true. I would never be a seamstress, nor would I make incredible and beautiful clothing to be worn by the people of the Capitol.

No, I would be a Victor.

The world had taken enough from me. Now was the time to take something back.

Last edited by LadyWonders (27/09/2015 at 19:31)

Name: Violet
Age: eighteen
District Number: two

A long awaited reaping

The hours previous to the reaping ceremony are always the longest of my life. Too nervous to do anything, without being able to get rid of the fear of not being caught. This thought must sound creepy in any other district, but in district two being selected is a great honor. We all wish to be taken to demonstrate we are superior to any other district to receive the favor of the capitol. This time is my last chance cause I’m eighteen.

Now I’m in the main square of our district, the multitude surrounded us, everyone was quiet, the tension could be cut with a knife, the girl’s name was up to be caught. I closed my eyes and seconds later I listened the sound that filled me with joy, “Violet Vent” the mayor screamed. I opened my eyes and walked to the stage steadily with an ample grin in my face. The crowd broke into applause and yelling.  Anyone would dare to volunteer knowing how much I desired to be into the hunger games, I wanted all these years of training worth for something, and more than anything I was eager of being crown winner.

---

NAME: Lauren Acevedo
AGE: 17
DISTRICT NUMBER: 10
PHOTO:
Link to external image

Spoiler Click to display

Lauren and her father moved through the crowd. She was frantically covering her chest. To this event people must be wearing their best clothes, but her blouse was missing multiple top buttons. In the smallest wind change her little scarf over the skin would fail her. For now none of the guards were paying attention. It wasn't a big deal, everyone knew they were poor, but the guards could get mad about anything.

For Lauren the chances could be quite high. She didn't have a sister so various quotas she took on her own name, increasing her chance. But her father couldn't wait for her to be called. He wanted Lauren to win and he wanted the riches that would come with it. No one knew, but Lauren had a lot of stamina and strength. She couldn't use a complicated or skilled required weapon, but overwhelming a boy wouldn't be hard for her.

Her father made her run for multiple hours a day, he made her carry heavy loads and hold one position for multiple minutes. She spent most of her time on the field building her body, because they were poor and from a poor district, they had no other choice. His father was the only person left in Lauren's family, he knew he could lose her. He was not ready to go down without a fight. If his daughter would be going in, she would be going in with a blast.

Not a single hair was disturbed by the wind on Lauren's head. The last thing her mother taught her, was to keep her hair in one place. While working on the field you had no time to spend on your hair. There was a lot of work and a lot of training.

The boy from her district was quite handsome, but Lauren was a very quiet person with no friends. She didn't like the many questions people would ask about her bruises or how her eyelashes are so thick. She didn't like the attention.

While she was lost in her thoughts, suddenly she felt nudges on her shoulders and she was moving forwards. And then she was on the stage with the boy she was just thinking about. Blushing, unaware of the danger she's about to get into...

---

Name: Moxi Silentstone
Age: 16
District Number: seven



Just three more years, three more years and I won't need to stand here; I won't need to do this, just three more years...

I know that this is how things are, that it's how things need to be, but every year since I've turned 12 I've prayed that it wouldn't be me. I didn't want it to be anyone else either, but it had to be someone right?

I listen as the first name is called, a boy named Neam Hardshire. I don't know him well but our little sisters play together. Next year they'll both be old enough for reaping day to affect them. In a way I suppose it already has. He strides up to the stage quickly, and I can't help but think of how it seems like he's rushing to his death.

Just three more years, three more years and I won't need to stand here; I won't need to do this, just three more years...

I hold my breath as the second name is pulled, time seems to slow as the paper is unfolded and read: Moxi Silentstone.

I walk to the stage as slowly as possible, looking in at the crowd around me knowing that this may be the last time I truly see any of them...

Name: Marlene Maleficia
Age: 17
District Number: 3

Link to external image


As the mayor was getting to the podium, my heart thumped in the rhythm of his steps. Big, glass balls full of names were shining in the morning sun.

God, don't let it be me.

Hunger games wouldn't be anything new to me. I've inherited my mother's red hair and her grandmother's weird name. Everyone already thought I was a witch. Being cautious is a way of living.

Still... God, don't let it be me.

I hear a well-known story about the beginning of Hunger games. I hear a rumor when the mayor puts his hand in a reaping ball.

God, don't let it be me.

Suddenly, I hear my name. All eyes are directed at me. They look relieved. No harm if a witch's daughter dies, right?

I step up. My mother's whisper echo in my ears.
"Hold your head high, gorgeous. They will kill to see you fall..."

Last edited by Maliganska (29/09/2015 at 16:23)

Round Two

It's been two days since the reaping; you've had to say goodbye to your friends and family, unsure as to whether you'll ever even see them again.

You've travelled to the Capitol and are in the Training Centre, ready to start your first session. What will you be good at? Are you better at the physical side, like shooting arrows or throwing spears, or will you be better at finding food and building shelter?


Task
Decide on two skills your character will be better at, and show me what she'd going to wear for her first training session. Don't forget you've got to be able to move easily in it!

For those who like to write, feel free to. Tell me what you think of the centre, who your biggest competition is (it can either be another Fashionista's character or made up) and how you're feeling generally.


Have fun!

As I walk into the first training session I worry that my heart is beating loudly enough that the whole room will be able to hear it. I don't want to be here, and despite the savage smiles on the faces of some of the other tributes as they display their skills, I don't believe that they really want to be here either. Who would actually want to be in this room?

I spot Neam, and debate smiling at him before I decide against it. Instead I watch intently as he builds a fire, something I have no idea how to do.

What I do know how to do is shoot a cross bow, a skill my mama started teaching me at 6 just in case. 'C'mon Moxi," she'd urge when she could tell I was getting frustrated, "Just a few more practice shots just in case."

She never had to say in case of what, I knew what she meant, and as much as I'd hated those lessons I was grateful for them now. I was also grateful that growing up in District 7 I was comfortable outdoors, and confident I'd be able to build a shelter.

I try not to focus on what the other tributes are doing. I don't want to think of all the ways they might have to kill me. Instead I focus on Neam between aims of the crossbow, not looking at him exactly, but trying to commit to memory the movements of his hands as he builds and rebuilds his fire.

Skills: Survival, blades (that I can't remember the name of )

Training Day

First impressions (just a bit extra but you should probably read it first)

The Capitol was everything I had ever dreamed.

Only in all the wrong ways.

The train took me straight from District 8 to the Training Centre- a massive skyscraper where I would live until it was time for the Games to begin.

It was overwhelming- the sheer size alone was enough to send me into convulsions of terror and delight. No luxury was spared; I recieved a beautifully furnished apartment and a fully-stocked wardrobe, as well as my own private chef, fashion team and entourage. I felt like a celebrity.

I guess I was a celebrity in a sense. Everyone made a massive fuss of me and I felt myself unwind; I actually began to like the attention. What orphan girl who had barely been spoken to over the last seven years wouldn't? I fell madly in love with the delicate marble floors and technology of the likes I'd never had the honor of owning. I even got my own television!

Of course I'd had to undergo a medical examnination beforehand- a small blip in the bright lights of paradise. It was uncomfortable and invasive, which is all I'm prepared to say about it. I'm fairly certain they took several unnecessary samples from me; but I suppose that's just tomorrow's problem.

The food they served to me was exquisite. A light, sweet soup was followed by delicate fish and rich meat dishes garnished with herbs and gravy. Dessert was an array of petite cakes and creams, smothered with fondant icing and chocolate. I indulged in almost every delight going, savouring flavours I'd never dreamed of experiencing. Now this was a life I could get used to.

My mentor, Lisle Morthan, was more than happy to promote this attitude in me.

"Remember Anjah." She told me, tucking into a small bird that might have been a quail. "You want to stay positive throughout. Getting chosen for the Games is an uphill battle, your attitude can be the difference between life and death. If you believe you're going to die, you will die. But believe you will win..."

Lisle is a short, plump woman with a cheery demeanor despite participating in the Games. She told me that her Game lasted over a week; she won when a Feast was announced. The six remaning members engaged in battle until only Lisle was left standing. She massacred them all with brutal efficiency despite her basic training. I admired her greatly.

Jubilee Incepto, my escort, checked the regal grandfather clock poised at the end of the room and gasped at the time. She quickly ushered me off to bed; tomorrow would be my first day of training. I needed to get some rest in order to be at my best.

Despite being enveloped in the comforting warmth of my large bed, I couldn't sleep. It wasn't for any nervousness- for some reason, I hadn't felt a thing except ecstasy and determination since the Reaping. There was no fear for my life; no fear of death. After all, I had spent years living in a pit of hell with no way out. I would have died soon there anyway, caught up in the smog like every other resident of District 8. I hated to admit it, but I would have willingly volunteered a thousand times just to experience this small slice of luxury before my death. At least in the Capitol I would have the chance to experience plenty before going to a glorious death- a victor's death. Like the old Vikings father used to talk about; fierce warriors who saw no greater glory than dying in battle. I would ascend to Valhalla, a champion. Or I would remain in Panem, a champion.

I had absolutely nothing to loose.

But that wasn't what kept me awake, tossing and turning into the early hours. It was the wardrobe, left half-open to reveal satin and silk frothing up through the elegant wooden doors. Only I didn't see beautifully shaped fabric I longed to wear; I saw bodies being shoveled into a pit. I saw black smog and smoke-filled skies. I saw the ruined faces of women and men, elderly by thirty. I saw my past reflected in shimmering fabric and it haunted me deeply.
I knew what to do.

I slipped out of my room and summed an avox with the request that they find me something to help me sleep. He returned twenty minutes later with a bottle of white liquid and a pipette.

I administered two drops and dreamt of nothing in particular.

On the first day of training I overslept. I was nearly slapped awake by Jubilee, who had gotten herself into a fit trying to wake me up. Apparently you were only supposed to take one drop of the medicine, not two. It was a suprise I hadn't overdosed and ruined my chances before the Game even began.

I quickly threw on some clothes before Jubilee ushered me to a quick breakfast of eggs, toast and strong black tea sweetened with honey. It was delicious, but I barely had time to savour it before I was tumbling down in a glass elevator towards the Training room.

All the other tributes had already assembled, including the boy from District 8. I didn't know his name, nor did I care. In fact, I barely focused on any of the other tributes. There was no point- they'd all be dead soon enough. Keeping your friends close and your enemies closer never sat well with me; I didn't have the time for friends, nor was I willing to make any here. Instead, I channelled my energy into learning survival skills. I knew I was probably much weaker than some of the other Tributes, so I decided it would be better to focus on passive techniques rather than combat. With survival skills, I would be able to hide while they picked one another off. Then it would just be a case of stalking the survivor until one of us remained standing.

With a solid plan in my mind, I went swiftly towards the camoflauge station. Then fire making. Rope tying. Food forraging. There was no skill that I couldn't pick up in a few minutes- though just to be safe, I spent a little extra on each one until I was completely satisfied with my performance. The weapons were more of a struggle, since the closest I'd ever been near one was watching the Peacekeepers file people in to the Reaping ceremony. Eventually, I found some leverage with a pair of slim blades I'd never seen before. The way they handled reminded me a little of knitting needles; I spent the rest of my day slashing at a practise dummy, trying to make my gouges as deep as possible.

When the final bell sounded, I knew I was a little more prepared than when I began.

Probably not enough to win. Definetly not as much as the District 1 and 2 Tributes.

But it was a start.

Last edited by LadyWonders (30/09/2015 at 17:35)

Skills: wrestling and sword fighting.

Duel of pride

Two days have gone by, we are now in the capitol, James, the male tribute from district two, and me. During the journey from our district, I had portrait in my mind many times how the capitol would be, but everything I had imagined was nothing compared with the reality that hit me when I stepped down from the wagon.

The first session in the training center had just started. This was our opportunity to observe the other tributes and notice what they are good at to make our work in the arena easier. However we couldn’t just stay staring, I started to think what I could do to show them a bit of what I was able to.

I gave a walk around the sections. Recognizing edible plants wasn`t my thing, knowing about it is a waste of time for us, the ones from district two, we’re strong enough to get all the supplies from the cornucopia.  The same about camouflage, we have no need to be hiding. I spotted several swords in a corner. I took one and made some flourish. James fenced another one and we exchanged some blows with me. After a while I was exhausted. I looked around me, everyone in the training center was looking at us with concern, I thought. That was perfect, I wanted them to fear us to surrender in the arena.

---

Skill: Shooting with bow and arrow

Link to external image

Story comes later

Round Three
         
     
Link to external image
                     

It's two days before you enter the areana. But before you can even think about that, you have your big interview with Caeser Flickerman. Every year you've watched it on the big screen in your district, and know what's expected of you.

First the tributes ride up to the theatre, in a golden chariot, each one wearing an outfit relating to their district.

They would then wait nervously backstage waiting for Caesar to call their name. They'd each spend three minutes answering his questions, before heading back to the Centre to wait for The Day.

You've seen it happen. Now it's happening to you.


Task
Wear an outfit that will make you stand out at your interview, but remember it must relate to your district (see second post if you can't remember). Example, you can choose a colour or include certain objects.

Then you must answer the following questions... How are you going to answer? Are you going for honesty, humour to win the crowd or act vulnerable so they pity you?

* How do you feel about entering the arena? 
* How do you feel about the male tribute from your district?
* Who've you left behind at home?
* What do you hope the arena is like?
* Have you got what it takes to win?

Last edited by Fashion-Chic (02/10/2015 at 18:51)

* How do you feel about entering the arena?
I'm nervous. I think anyone with any sense would be, after all only one of us is going to make it out alive

* How do you feel about the male tribute from your district?
I don't know him well, our sisters played together back home though.

* Who've you left behind at home?
My parents and little sister.

* What do you hope the arena is like?
Hopefully it's full of trees, at least then it'll feel like home (laughs).

* Have you got what it takes to win?
You're asking if I have what it takes to kill other people, including one whose family I had to face afterwards (pause) I don't know...we'll all find out together.

The interview

Getting ready

The day of the interview finally arrived.

I was plucked straight from training; ushered off like a child into the waiting arms of my Prep Team. There I was scrubbed and scraped into some semblance of beauty. My thick red hair was yanked and twisted into a loose style that curled around my shoulders. Greasy red lipstick was applied to my lips- I was instructed to pout and pose when necessary. My eyes were lined, my brows plucked. The head of my Prep Team decided against using heavy make-up; he liked how the natural style of make-up brought out the vivid green of my eyes.

I felt like a doll being handled by particularly rough children. I'd never experienced anything like it. Back in District 8 there had been no time for beauty regimes, only work. I'd never even shaved my legs before until that moment.

Eventually a deep green dress was strapped onto me. I recognised the feel of the cloth- it was silk, a fabric District 8 excelled in making. They added several accessories to my ensemble, including a great pair of metal wings. The Prep Team said that they were to represent the 'industrial nature' of District 8.

I knew when I looked in the mirror that I would be beautiful. I just didn't feel it under the weight of all my clothes. Uncomfortable, I twirled for my Prep Team as Jubilee clapped her hands and gushed over my new look.

Tonight would be an exhibition. A first of many, or a blissful last. I would rub elbows with the Capitol's finest and they would pat me on the back and wish me luck- a hopeful up-and-coming or a tragic hero.

With some gentle coaxing of my dress I was ushered through the door and out into the awaiting chariot. I stood side-by-side with the boy who had been chosen from my district. He looked tired.
No, he looked defeated.

Before I could stop myself I reached out and held his hand. It was only for a second; we were pulled away by a sharp jerk that signalled the beginning of the chariot's slow descent to the interview.

It was time. The show had begun.

Caesar Flickerman: And now may I present, straight from District 8, Anjah Capricorn!

{Anjah walks on stage to the cheers of the crowd. She waves and laughs, basking in the glow of the bright lights and the atmosphere of the room}

Anjah: Thank you so much for the lovely introduction, sir.

Caesar Flickerman: {chuckles} I'm no sir, Anjah. I'm Caesar Flickerman!

{The crowd whoops and laughs}

Anjah: Yes, of course. Caesar. {she chuckles} It's so great to be up here.

Caesar Flickerman: Enjoying the capital? It's very different from District 8, that's for sure.

Anjah: I know! Everything here is so... Big!

{The crowd laughs at her response}

Anjah: But seriously, a girl could get used to luxury like this.
Caesar Flickerman: Are you saying you think you have what it takes to win?

{The crowd oohs and aahs as Anjah gazes thoughtfully into the distance}

Anjah: Honestly? I don't know. I can't say if my skill is any better than the rest of the Tributes-

Caesar Flickerman: Really? I think you got a respectable score in training. Just to recap for our viewers at home, will you tell us what you got?

Anjah: {laughs} I got a 10. It's not perfect but it's a start.

Caesar Flickerman: A very amazing start if I do say so myself!

{The audience laughs and claps. Anjah laughs along with them, her smile bright and wide.}

Anjah: I'm just going to go out there with the best attitude I can and hope for the best.

Caesar Flickerman: Ah. Very good strategy, Anjah. Very good. You know, there's a lot of power in positive thinking.

Anjah: Don't I know it!

Caesar Flickerman: So how do you feel about entering the arena? You seem pretty positive on a whole.

Anjah: I am. I mean, I should be nervous- but I'm not. After witnessing what the Capitol has to offer... Well, I would volunteer a thousand times just to experience these past few days again!

Caesar Flickerman: {laughs} I'm glad you're impressed, Anjah. From what I've heard, there's not a lot of good in District 8.

Anjah: {sighs} No, there isn't. But it's my home and I love it all the same.

Caesar Flickerman: Did you leave anyone behind? Anyone important? A secret admirer we should know about, perhaps? {chuckles}

Anjah: I'm afraid not, Caesar. {she bites her lip} My... My parents passed a way a while ago.

{The audience collectively sighs}

Caesar Flickerman: Oh I'm so sorry!

Anjah: It's okay. It was a while ago now, I've coped well enough on my own.

Caesar Flickerman: That you have, Anjah. We're all very proud of you; I'm sure District 8 is too. So, what do you think of young Elised? The male tribute?

Anjah: Elised? I don't really know. I haven't had the oppertunity to talk to him properly; after all, District 8 is very big. I think I met him for the first time on the train.

Caesar Flickerman: What a shame. I'm sure the two of you would have been great friends! After all, the arena is a harsh place. What do you think it'll turn out like?

Anjah: I don't know- but I'm hoping for a nice, sunny beach. Who said the Games had to be dreary and grey?

{The audience laughs and cheers}

Caesar Flickerman: {laughs} That's brilliant, Anjah. But we're all out of time!

Anjah: Really? Awwh. I was just beginning to enjoy myself.

Caesar Flickerman: And there we have it folks- Anjah Capricorn, District 8's female tribute!

{Anjah walks off the stage, waving to the audience as she goes}

Round Four


It is now time. You're standing on your platform, waiting to be lifted up into the arena.

You've had the last words on encourage from your mentor as you feel yourself rising upwards.

The light blinds you, as you open your eyes to reveal twenty three others standing before acres of land.

The siren sounds.

You run.


Task
Dress only in black, ready to go into the arena.

If you want you can write about what happens

No more words

The game has begun.

I stand on the platform.

The counter ticks down...

Then I run.

Contest Closed!

This was such a fun contest to host: I enjoyed not only seeing your outfits but also reading about your characters. A lot of you are truly amazing writers, and all of you dressed beautifully.

Thank you all so much for entering, I hoped you have enjoyed it as much as I have.

Before I reveal the results I would just like to explain something to you. Everyone was scored out of twenty for each round, however as there wasn't that many people I decided not to award banners for the top three for each round, as someone would be left out.

Round Winners

Round One
Noliira, 19

Round Two
Maliganska, 18

Round Three
Dare

Round Four
Nemesis

Chockolate - 18 points

Sadly, as everyone made a dash for the Cornucopia to choose the best items, Lauren was still in a daze over what was happening. Due to her late start Lauren was unprepared, being stabbed in the heart by a spear belonging to a male tribute. (I know you had to leave the contest early, but I still wanted to include you)

Maliganska - 33 points

Marlene lasted a few days - tributes tended to hide from her as they believed she was a witch with magical powers. Some soon worked out that is was all superstitions, and they all went to look for her. This included Shimma, who killed Marlene by decapitating her with her knife. (You only took part for half of the contest, that's why your score's a bit low)

Nemesis - 52 points

As she was from District Two Violet was confident she was going to do well. She'd trained for this moment all her life. She killed many of the tributes by wrestling them to the ground and stabbing them with her sword: she was killed by Anjah. Their battle was long - they were dueling on a long thick branch for almost three hours, before one swift movement from Anjah caused Violet to lose her balance, fall from the tree and break her neck. Ouch.(You only entered three of the rounds, that's why your score is a bit lower)

Noliira - 62 points - Third

Shimma was the favourite to win the Hunger Games, after all she was from District One and had been training everyday for this. It was an honor for her to appear in the Hunger Games. That's why everyone was shocked when she died due to lack of water: she'd been taught physical skills, not how to survive off the land...

Dare - 66 points - Second

Moxi went a little crazy in her final days. Originally she stuck with Neam, the male tribute from her district, and together they killed a few of the competitors. But then they started to run out of food, and after weeks of starvation Moxi strangled Naem, toasting him on the fire and well, I'm guess you can see what happened... let's just say when she realised what she'd eaten she went insane, not seeing when the male from District Two came with his axe...

LadyWonders - 68 points - Winner!

Anjah was the underdog in the competition. No one expected here to be one of the last ones, along with the male from District One. She'd sworn right at the start she'd be a Victor. She waited until all was quiet, when the Capitol flooded half of the arena so the last two were forced together. Anjah hid in the bushes, waiting for the male to pass. When he did she plunged her blade into his leg. When he collapsed she finished the job. The cannon sounded. She'd won...

So there we have it folks, the end of the Hunger Games.

Everyone will receive a banner in PM, regardless of how many rounds they entered, within the next few days.

Thanks again for entering, see you soon

Last edited by Fashion-Chic (05/10/2015 at 22:06)