conversations: human
conversations:  As you awake, you realize the day has finally come.  It is the day for the reaping of the 73rd games.  A day that has stood out in your memory as long as you can remember.  The feeling of dread fills your stomach.  Something feels off, but you're not sure why.
  
  You rise and dress for the occasion, as does everyone throughout the district.  Everyone wants to look nice for the ceremony.  You never know when you might get chosen after all.  So you better look your best.
  Leaving your home, you join the mass exodus of people heading to the Reaping.  The peacekeepers presence is throughout the streets.  Their clean white uniforms and faceless helmets impress upon you a cold reality.  Everyone is going.  The silence of the crowd as they walk betrays another fact.  They know that two children are going to die.  Not today, but because of the events of today.  It's a sobering fact.  It hangs over the air like a heavy fog.
  
  Just like all the other children of the district, you line up with the children of your age. Girls on one side, boys on another.  Your blood sample is taken as peacekeepers check everyone in for the reaping.  Children around you try to stay brave, especially for the younger ones.  But they're all afraid.
  
  And then the capital Visitor comes up on stage.  Your heart sinks.
  The time for Tributes has come.  
   Spoiler 
   Please post your character's general appearance and his/her mannerisms as the reaping takes place.  How it goes down is completely up to you.
   
conversations: CowMasterTrojan:
conversations: human
conversations:  Parison found himself staring at his shoes. He had tried to put on his best clothes for the ceremony, but when he realised he didn’t have any he decided that his worst would suffice. His shirt hung loosely off his mossy green skin despite his size, and his hard-bitten face began to turn purple in the cold. Everyone was in the square, which meant the forges everyone relied on for warmth were left cold, and the crowd was already feeling the worst of the effects. The only thing to do was to listen to the mayor drone on, and Parison was having none of that.
  
  It wasn’t that he felt above it all, or that he was particularly nervous, it was just that he knew he wasn’t going to get picked. As one of the larger districts, there is such a low chance that he was going to be picked, even with all the tesserae that he had put in, the odds where about 1 in 20000. (Not that he knew where those numbers came from. Craig, the watchmaker had often said that, during his trips to the bazaar).
  
  Parison, not even listening to the speeches, was determined to distract himself from the ceremony. He thought to himself about the anvil he’d brought to market, the shelves he’d taken down last week, and the furnace he’d dismantled. None of these belonged to him, nor did the owners ask him to, but good food was expensive this time of year.  Probably due to insects or something. He wasn’t sure. They did seem to be everywhere nowadays. Craig would have something to say about-
  
    “Parison Smiley!”  
  
  What.
  
  Parison looked up as the crowd turned to face him. His thoughts abandoned him, leaving a growing sense of panic, swiftly eclipsed by a sense of indignation. Typical, he thought. Bloody typical. He stepped up on the stage, answered a few questions, swore a bit more than they would have liked, but all in all didn’t raise as many eyebrows as he would have wanted to. His parents had been fans of the games for as long as Parison could remember, but today they were noticeably quieter.
  
  Goodbyes were quite easy. His parents were more encouraging that he would have thought, and honestly seemed that they thought he could win. He had no idea how genuine they were though. As he was escorted to the train, he turned to look back on District 3, the chimneys pouring smoke and ash into the air once again.
  
  Craig had always said that each tribute had about a 4% chance of winning.
  
  But then again, not everything he'd said was holding true.
conversations: Necropie:
conversations: human
conversations:  As Parison takes the time to stand and look about on the stage, a somber feeling sets upon him.  To his right was a human girl he had never met before, Ralla.  She was dressed in fine clothes but terror filled her face.  Likely from a wealthier family.
  
  As they put the two of you in waiting rooms, you can hear her sobs to her family across the hall.  Meanwhile, Parison's parent's emotions are controlled.  It is clear they are being strong for him.  Holding it back until he leaves.
  
  Finally the peacekeepers escort Parison &amp; Ralla to the train, where they leave your side.  Technology in 3 is nothing unheard of, so the trains appearance doesn't catch Parison by surprise.  Except that the train is so new and shiny.  All the equipment is the newest model.
  
  At the center of the car is a large table, filled with foods.  Alone in the car is a woman in a bright green dress suit that comes to greet you both.  She was the one who called your names.
    "Hello. Hello.  Welcome aboard.  Isn't this train just fantastic?  The finest train of the capital's"   She says with a wink.    "I'm Kendra.  I'll be your chaperone for the journey."    With a quick look, she notices Parison's appearance.  She frowns only for a moment before returning with the polite demeanor.   "How about I show you to the facilities to wash up? Then we can sit down and enjoy this delicious feast they've prepared for us!"  
conversations: CowMasterTrojan:
conversations: human
conversations:  Parison, having grown up in what basically amounted to one giant cloud of dust and smog, was not one to say no to the level of luxury afforded by the Capitol. Anyway, a wash might help clear his head. He was escorted to the washroom, and was confronted with a variety of lotions, creams, salves, and lord knows what else, all contained in tall crystal bottles. While obviously supposed to be perfumed, the whole room smelt more like an industrial accident. He decided to refrain from touching any of them just in case, and simply splashed a bit of water on his hands and face to remove the worst of the filth.
  
   He stepped out of the washroom, looking not much better than when he stepped in, and returned to the dining car. Noticing that Ralla had already sat down at the table, he grabbed a dense roll of bread and sat down at his place.  “I’ll be honest.”  he said, breaking the bread in half.  “I have no idea what happens before the bloodbath begins. What happens from here?”  He said, gesturing to Kendra with one half and biting into the other.
conversations: Necropie:
conversations: human
conversations:  Ralla continues to sit quietly at the table, not looking up as Parison comes back. She hasn't made eye contact with him yet, Parison quickly realizes.  Having taken a stuffed chicken breast, she quietly and neatly dissects it with a fork. Meticulously she separates the carrots, broccoli, cheese sauce, skin, and chunk of meat into their own piles before carefully eating them one at a time.
  
  Kendra has politely folded a napkin over her dress and helps herself to a delicious looking piece of chocolate cake.  She eats very neatly and in small bites so not to get any on her pearly white teeth.    "Well I'm no expert on everything.  Just a chaperone to make sure you behave yourself." She says with a pleasant smile. "But the train ride should take us about a day and a half to get to the capital.  Oh, how you'll enjoy that site.  It is a city to marvel.  I find myself speechless every time I see it.  Once there, we have some lovely people who will get you cleaned up and dressed.  And then there's a nice parade to show you off to everyone.  Televised across Panem too!"
  
  "If you want specifics, I'm sure Beetee will be back in a hour or so.  Since I've been chaperone, which is only a few short years, the mentors always seem very tired out from the reaping.  I never understand it, but they'll be quite helpful once they get rested."   
conversations: CowMasterTrojan:
conversations: human
conversations:  The name Beetee was familiar to Parison. His parents often sang praises of him whenever the Hunger Games started, and his dad had often said that he had gone to school with him. Of course, he had also said that he once drank President Snow under the table, so Parison took everything that he said with a pinch of salt.
  
  Having wolfed down the bread, he grabbed a leg of what looked like chicken and, with noticeably less care than his dining companions, started tucking in to it. Once he’d finished chewing his first mouthful, he turned towards Ralla, realising that he knew nothing about her.  “Sorry, I wasn’t paying much attention at the Reaping. I’m Parison, pleased to meet you. You are…?” 
conversations: Necropie:
conversations: human
conversations:  The girl looks up at Parison slowly, being aware to not chew with her mouthful.  Extending her hand, she attempts to shake Parison's.   "Ralla."   Shaking her head for a moment, her eyes take focus and she finally makes eye contact.
   "Sorry, I was just doing some math in my head." 
  
  With a sudden kick, Parison feels the kick of the train as it begins to move.  Smoothly and quietly, it picks up speed with no time flat.  Parison can see out the plexiglass windows as his district quickly begins to grow small in the distance.
conversations: CowMasterTrojan:
conversations: human
conversations:  The speeding train catches your attention as it suddenly begins to slow.  For the last hour the train has been speeding along mountains and shooting through tunnels.  Finally it comes out of a final tunnel and the sun shines down upon it.  With it now slowing, the train track curves to the side and allows you to see in the distance the capital.
  
  A gigantic metropolis, it is comprised of countless metal buildings that stretch into the sky towards the clouds.  Never in your life have you seen such tall buildings.  Scattered along the skyline are floating ships that hang in the sky.
  
   
   Spoiler 
   
   
  
  
  The train continues to slow, and eventually closes into the city.  People line the track, waving to you as the train enters the capital.  The capital citizens are an odd bunch, all dressed in bright colors with bizarre hairstyles and some even have odd grafts on their bodies.  The sheer number of them decorating the pristine streets is mind boggling to you.
  
  _______________________-
  
  Once the train stops, your chaperone takes you to a nearby building.  There a team of highly trained capital employees take over cleaning you.  They scrub you clean on a level you've never felt before, removing a layer of skin from your body, thoroughly washing your hair, waxing body hair, and picking any specks of dirt that may be under your nails.
conversations: CowMasterTrojan: