The Hunger Games discussion

Just sit and watch the games. There's one camera focused on every tribute, and then the rest are devoted to whichever tribute is mainly being featured right now.

(Only open to stylists, gamemakers, the president, etc.. Not just any Capitol citizen.)

Ebony sat in a chair, watching the final three tributes. The District Two tribute - Noelle, right? - was probably going to win. She leaned back in her chair, expression unreadable as always.

Adair was watching over her shoulder, taking notes on the successes of these Games to have references for future Games.

Reggie walked in still snickering, her hair a brighter version of the same color she had before, having re-dyed it. Her contacts were also put back in. She leaned against the wall and watched the footage, a small smirk on her face even as her stomach secretly churned.

((Bully. Bully bully bully.))

Romalia watches carefully, poisedly. She kept a slightly bored expression on her face, one that is almost always upon her face. She carefully analyzes Noelle's every moves. There was something about that girl the screamed 'Victor'. Scarlette had potential, but moderate potential. Noelle, though, knew what she was doing. And she would make an interesting Victor

sнεяℓσcк нσℓмεs wrote: "((Bully. Bully bully bully.))"

(XDDD)

((Although if she dyed her hair even brighter green that gives Pheonix even more reason to call her Veggie XD))

Ebony continued watching, emotionless as always. Scarlette and Noelle were in love with each other, and it looked like they would be the final two. So what would happen then?

"They might be lovers. But they're ruthless. Surviving is the most important thing to them. That, or going down with a fight." Reggie speculated

"True. They're also both a bit unstable, and one might kill themself to let the other win." Ebony said. Her tone was careful, calculated.

Adair just nodded. She wasn't very helpful in the brain cells department.

Romalia nods along, fully agreeing with Ebony. "This is going to be a good for the screens. A romantic moment, and then: suicide."
She smiles ever-so-slightly, something that is rare for her. Even though inside she is slightly frowning. Slightly displeased.
Suicide should not be something for the mass entertainment... she thinks, a trace of an emotion crossing her mind.
But on the outside, all she seems is somewhat happy. Somewhat entertained.

Calliope walked into the room, straight figure wrapped in a boxy midnight-blue-and-aluminum tunic tied at the waist. She took a seat, crossing long legs, a platinum wedge dangling over a shin. "I'm sure the Sponsors are eating this up," she said airily, concealing the twist in her stomach at the blood and death that she knew was coming.

"Well! Show's all wrapped up!" Romalia proclaims, except she is clearly in Rema's mind now. She is smiling brightly, her eyes shining excitedly. "That was great fun!"

"Yeah. It's time to plan her trip around the districts. Is Adair scheduling it?" She asked in a monotone voice, looking towards the purple and pink haired assistant.

"She is now," Ebony responded without missing a beat. There was a small smile on her face, although it was calculating and unreadable.

Calliope shrugged. "She's my District's responsibility, so I'll be in charge of designing for her tour," she said, brain already flying over fabrics and patterns. Mostly to distract herself from the...disgust, the shame and horror that was trying to invade her mind.

"Good, I'll go handle the reporters." She said quietly, hiding her clenched fist as she looked at all of the bloodshed.

Adair looked away from the worst of the blood. She was rather squeamish, which was unfortunate in this line of work. She immediately began scheduling the trip around the Districts for Noelle.

Cal stood, brushing turquoise-and-blue hair off their forehead, and left the room to go to her studio. She needed to get out and focus on her work.

Adair came in here after talking to Medea. "Medea's looking for the other Gamemakers," she said, arms crossed. "I mean, unless you want her to design the whole arena."

Adair sighed. She was being ignored and hated it. "Fine, I'll just tell her you're not coming," she sassed, before turning and leaving the room, her colourful hair swishing behind her and her heels tapping.

Adair sat here and watched the Games on the screens, wincing slightly on occasion at the most graphic content. It wasn't something she was used to seeing. Besides watching the Games, she never really participated in gore or any hands-on work that may have involved it. She was somewhat squeamish, although she did take great pleasure in watching the tributes get killed off one by one. Somewhere in her tiny little brain, it made sense.

Medea watched the screens, more fascinated by the Tributes' behaviors and the overall events than the death. The aesthetic of the arena was surreal, if she did say so herself, and there was some good drama. Several dramatic deaths and intriguing twists. Somewhere inside, she was laughing, smugly calculating every factor and designing every dramatic scenario possible. What could she do to manipulate them further? She wanted something more twisted, more dramatic, more impactful. But another part of her was frustrated, feeling unsatisfied. She hadn't been able to predict everything.

Adair looked over at Medea, observing her. It was hard to see past the emotionless mask Medea had put on, so to speak. Adair couldn't tell a thing about what Medea was feeling, despite trying quite hard to. She liked to believe she had an incredible knack for figuring out people's emotions at any given time, but with Medea it was impossible. Finally, Adair spoke. "The arena looks exquisite, Medea."

Medea smiled, purple-painted lips curving. "I know," she said, her smile making it impossible to tell if she was joking or not.

((Crying and watching inauguration sorry))

(crying because I have algebra now)

Adair tried her best to hide her confusion. "Did you design it?" she asked.

((Welp just finished my algebra final in time to see Kamala Harris get sworn in))

ѕнєяℓσ¢к ѕαℓναтσяє мαℓfσу wrote: "((Crying and watching inauguration sorry))"

((what a mood that I relate to))

Medea laughed, low. "Of course I did," she said, teeth flashing briefly. She threw a lock of purple hair over the puffed-out shoulder of her metallic gray dress.

Cal walked into the room, strappy leather boots tapping on the floor. They brushed a lock of electric-blue and turquoise hair off their forehead, crossing long legs as she sat down. She shuddered almost imperceptibly at the death onscreen.

Sofia wrote: "ѕнєяℓσ¢к ѕαℓναтσяє мαℓfσу wrote: "((Crying and watching inauguration sorry))"

((what a mood that I relate to))"

((XD it was so heartwarming :D))

Adair nodded. "Well, congrats, then," she said, turning back to the screen, her curly, pink-and-purple hair swishing as she did so. She hardly noticed Cal's entrance.

((What are Cal's pronouns? You used they twice and she twice.))

(they and she are interchangeable, Cal's girlflux)

((Alright cool))

ѕнєяℓσ¢к ѕαℓναтσяє мαℓfσу wrote: "Sofia wrote: "ѕнєяℓσ¢к ѕαℓναтσяє мαℓfσу wrote: "((Crying and watching inauguration sorry))"

((what a mood that I relate to))"

((XD it was so heartwarming :D))"

((It wasssss))

Variya entered the room with a swish of her hips and a flip of her silver hair. "Are you enjoying yourselves?" She strode to a leather armchair, plopped herself down, and proceeded to examine her fingernails.

"Immensely," Medea replied, drumming chrome-charcoal nails on the arm of her chair. This Games was dramatic so far - that addict boy had died so...viciously. Perfect.

Calliope grimaced briefly, her violet-blue eyes flashing away from the blood onscreen.

((I need to make my Gamemaker shit))

(YES YOU DO BITCH)

((I have ideas, but I'm a lazy ass I'm...okay no excuses I'll get on it))

((I NEED TO MAKE MINE TOO DON'T WORRY))

"There's so much blood," Variya murmured. "Delightful. It makes me think... I wonder if blood would be a good accessory for an outfit. Red silk, scarlet liquid dripping down one's face." She grinned fiercely. "What an inspiration murder is."

Medea smiled. "Exactly." Her twisted mind was already buzzing through ideas on how to make the next year even more painful - er, even more exciting. Blood would make an excellent color palette.

Calliope winced, but pulled out her sketchbook and ran through ideas. Variya had a point - a brutal look would be striking.

((Who's Variya?))

Ayla wrote: "((I have ideas, but I'm a lazy ass I'm...okay no excuses I'll get on it))"

ƑìɾҽƒӀվ || į աìӀӀ քҽքքҽɾ ìղ էհҽ ƒąçէ էհąէ į ąʍ ցąվ wrote: "((I NEED TO MAKE MINE TOO DON'T WORRY))"

(I AM ALONE
THE ONLY OTHER GAMEMAKER IS AVA'S AND AVA IS ON A HIATUS FROM GR RIGHT NOW)

ѕнєяℓσ¢к ѕαℓναтσяє мαℓfσу wrote: "((Who's Variya?))"

(Sofia's Stylist, District 7)

((look in the capitol characters topic))