The Hunger Games: Backstage
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Lurking on 14-05-2013, 21:16:42</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lurking</strong> on <strong>14-05-2013, 21:16:42</strong>
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				<div align="center">(http://oi39.tinypic.com/addiy0.jpg)<br><br><em>I follow him through a door into a sitting room. Two red couches face each other over a low table. Three walls are blank; the fourth is entirely glass, providing a window to the city. I can see by the light that it must be around noon, although the sunny sky has turned overcast. Cinna invites me to sit on one of the couches and takes his place across from me. He presses a button on the side of the table. The top splits and from below rises a second tabletop that holds our lunch. Chicken and chunks of oranges cooked in a creamy sauce laid on a bed of pearly white grain, tiny green peas and onions, rolls shaped like flowers, and for desert, a pudding the colour of honey. ~The Hunger Games</em><br><br>The backstage area has been changed slightly. Instead of each district getting their own floor, there is now one common room used by all tributes with 24 doors leading off to their individual rooms. I must inform you that Seneca Crane has expressly forbidden tributes from entering each other’s rooms. But, when you think about it, what is he going to do? Kill them? Besides, being forbidden just makes it that much more fun now, doesn’t it?<br><br>Mentors are welcome backstage too, although it goes without saying that they are highly forbidden to enter the tribute’s rooms. The mentors do have more to lose if they’re caught, but if a tribute is keen to impress then it would be a shame to stop them. <br><br>Food and drink is readily available, the kitchen staff have been ordered to provide the tributes with whatever they want, and as much of it as they want. There is a wide screen T.V. on up against one of the walls, with reruns of previous games playing in a continuous loop on the screen.</div><br>When posting your character please post this header first. <br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://oi41.tinypic.com/5b1fut.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong><br><strong>With:</strong><br><strong>Where:</strong><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ChaNeko</strong> on <strong>16-05-2013, 05:27:15</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> anonymous unnamed Tributes, servants<br><strong>Where:</strong> backstage<br><br>Rybbon slinked across the huge space, politely smiling and nodding to the attendants as they offered or served food and drink. Caressed in her long billowy dress, the deep cleavage she intentionally showed gleamed between dark panels of soft material. Letting her wild curls frame her face, she’d added something glittery to their tips, making her shimmer as she turned her head. She took a position near the huge expanse of window, smiling out over the city, her gloved hands linked casually behind her hips.<br><br><em>A new crop, some of them practically babies. Always exciting. Some would be thrilled, some would be terrified, one (or more) might be too homesick to yet be worried over their mortal life. The culture shock of leaving their district much less their home and family, surrendered unto the alien Capitol, would leave a quaking, mewling mess of nerves instead of a ready warrior. Who, by the end of training, would be worth their weight in gold and who was merely a mooncalf looking to get dropped their first minute off their starting block?</em><br><br>She took a tall glass of something orange-red-violet, the different weights of the liquids keeping them from blending into a muddy mess. Turning as she sipped the tangy top level, she eyed the huge view screen. A discrete change to her expression later and she turned away, grateful that the noise had been muted. She hated the ceremony of the cannons firing to announce every death during the games. She’d heard 23 too closely and quickly in succession once along ago. The very noise of such remembrance made her gut wrench and she made certain to sit facing away from the Games recaps from years past. She especially didn’t want to see the lingering capture of her own face, cheeks hollowed from malnutrition wet with skating tears at the very moment of her win.<br><br>Drinking slowly through her beverage, she lifted her head as young Tributes moved out from their rooms, smiling in what she liked to think of as her practiced soothing expression. A slightly friendlier one would greet those Tributes that spoke to her, encouraging contact if they wanted it, allowing them space if they needed it. She remembered how her insides had shaken when meeting the prospective mentors her first time. She didn’t want to intimidate anyone. There could only be one survivor after the Games were through – no reason to make the others’ times unpleasant. These would be their last days. They’d already said their goodbyes to their families, poor things… and so had she 16 years ago – nearly half her life she realized slowly. In fact, it was exactly half her life ago that her true love had been delivered to possibly this very room just before he died in ignominy.<br><br>Holding back a shudder, Rybbon sucked down through the orange layer, toward the refreshingly minty purple of her drink, closing her eyes while her taste buds grew accustomed to the new flavor. She opened them again, green eyes taking in the array of people in the room, ignoring the servants for those that belonged in these, the 73rd annual, Hunger Games.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sparrowhawke</strong> on <strong>20-05-2013, 00:37:38</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w310/Sparrowhawke/02958c73-a083-4d4d-99ae-2a4ea5a76c9a_zps4d0a3f6b.jpg) (http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w310/Sparrowhawke/Garrett1_zpsce231e4c.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Garrett Wylder<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer<br><strong>Where:</strong> Backstage<br><br>Garrett was in no rush when he awoke, plenty of the other tributes would be making their way down to the training center, but he fully intended to make use of the banquet that would await him downstairs. Well, he would as soon as he figured out how to escape from the shower that was. He had made the mistake of simply pressing whichever button looked nice when he got in, and he was half convinced he was about to drown in a sea of bright purple bubbles. <br><br>Eventually, he managed to tame the controls, finally coming out very clean and smelling rather strongly of flowers. It was rather perturbing, not a smell he was used to, and it was mildly unnerving to have it follow him around as he made his way down to the eating area. But still, he was smiling when he stepped out of the elevator, and headed quickly and eagerly for the food. He had gone without far too many times not to take the opportunity to eat as much as he could. He knew that there wouldn’t be much to eat when he got in the arena, either.<br><br>He filled his plate with a little bit of everything, eating even as he did. He’d never known that food could taste this good, the most he usually got was scraps, and the food from the Seam wasn’t all that good to begin with. He only noticed Rybbon’s presence when he had finally loaded his plate with as much as it could carry. He grinned widely at her, moving to sit near her. For the first few moments, he just ate, but as his stomach felt a little fuller he began to slow. Eventually he paused, looking over at her. <br><br>“Hello. My name’s Garrett.”
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ChaNeko</strong> on <strong>20-05-2013, 02:13:55</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Garrett Wylder, others<br><strong>Where:</strong> backstage at the table<br><br>Rybbon turned to better face the smallish man-boy addressing her. “I’m Rybbon, Garrett. Welcome to the Capitol. I hope you can enjoy yourself while you are here.” She realized that the message was one of temporary being – that he might focus on where he was going next or become sore at the idea of trying to enjoy his pre-death stay. She’d hoped to express her sincerity, meaning every word.<br><br>She lifted her glass and sipped the purple strata while the fingertips of her other hand toyed with the hanging end of the ribbon in her hair, matching what he saw with what he’d heard of her name. She glanced him over while he ate. The strangest impression of flora hit her senses as she looked at him. Maybe it was the reddish sheen to his hair, still fluffed from the all-body dryers within the tributes’ private bathrooms.<br><br>It was hard to place him from the parade at first... recalling him as half naked and much darker… <em>oh yes, District 12, coal dust as a covering.</em> She smiled, lowering her eyes for a moment, recalling how muscular the dark makeup had made him look and comparing the too-thin man before her.<br><br>“You can’t be any older than I was at my reaping,” she commented aloud, surprised at herself for bringing up her own experience with the games. Hiding her discomfort, she sipped toward the crimson waiting at the bottom of her crystal flute, watching him. She'd meant to sound encouraging, comparing their ages in similarity when both selected for their Games. She in turn was enjoying his obvious pleasure as the food comforted and nourished him. She placed her glass down and reached out for a small collection of fruit and a soft roll, smearing a rich white cheese over the inside of the broken bread.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TheRaven</strong> on <strong>20-05-2013, 02:34:12</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/zvRsGnR.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Caligus Occisus, District Two Male Tribute<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, Garret Wylder<br><strong>Where:</strong> Backstage<br><br>Caligus emerged from his room, a waft of expensive Capital cologne following him. He was accustomed to similar grooming equipment in his home among the upper crust of District 2, and was rather skilled in using it with or without a stylist's help. Incidentally, without his stylist to dress him that morning, he had simply selected a rather minimalist outfit from his provided wardrobe: a Tyrian purple v-neck, a black leather jacket with a single red stripe running up the left side, a pair of dark crimson cargo pants, and fine leather boots done in combat style. Evidently his stylist wanted him to stick with a more militarized look. Still, judging by the more subtle cosmetics left in his bathroom, he guessed that he was supposed to apply at least a bit of them. His eyes had been lined in a gentle, thin black stroke.<br><br>The District Two tribute approached the buffet table, practically ignoring the occupants of the room until he had filled his plate. It was a fairly small portion for most male Careers, consisting of egg whites, an apple, a banana, and a few slices of toast holding a sandwich of grilled tomatoes together. A glass of plain water finished off his breakfast. Of course, once he had collected his food, he approached the conversing duo. "Good morning," he began, taking a sip of the water and setting down his plate and cutlery. He eyed Garret for a moment, evidently thinking. "You're the District Twelve boy, right?" He turned to look at Rybbon. "And you must be the exquisite Rybbon Latimer. I'm sure you've heard this before, but I admire your ability to defeat a more physically superior foe with tactics. It's always refreshing to see the smart emerge on top."
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sparrowhawke</strong> on <strong>20-05-2013, 03:12:28</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w310/Sparrowhawke/02958c73-a083-4d4d-99ae-2a4ea5a76c9a_zps4d0a3f6b.jpg) (http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w310/Sparrowhawke/Garrett1_zpsce231e4c.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Garrett Wylder<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, Caligus Occisus<br><strong>Where:</strong> Backstage<br><br>Garrett had gotten straight back into his food as soon as the words came out of his mouth. It was too good to stop for long, at least until it was full. His smile remained as she spoke, and he nodded eagerly. Despite what people might think, he genuinely was enjoying himself. Thoughts of the future rarely impinged on his mind, and even when they did, he was largely unaffected. He simply didn’t dwell on such things. To him, there was no point.<br><br>He glanced over at Rybbon when she spoke once again, swallowing his mouthful and grinning at her. “I turned Eighteen about a month ago. Someone gave me a strawberry. It was nice.” He fell silent for a moment, taking a few more bites of his food. “Not as good as this, though.” He paused, a hint of a frown crossing his face for a moment before putting the plate aside. His stomach was finally starting to protest to the amount of food he had shoved into the small space. <br><br>“I might have eaten too much...” He sounded vaguely confused, the concept obviously rather alien to him. He didn’t have long to contemplate this, however, as another tribute entered the room. Garrett’s expression became temporarily unreadable as he watched the boy from two enter, but compared to his usual happy look it could possibly appear quite dark. It was only for a moment, however, before he was smiling again. He gave one last longing look at the food on his plate, before deciding to leave it lest he end up throwing it all up again.<br><br>By the time Caligus arrived near them, Garrett was grinning widely once more. He nodded eagerly in answer to the question posed, responding brightly. “And you’re the one from Two.” He even held two fingers up as if to emphasise his point. He remained silent as the man turned his attention to Rybbon, not wanting to interrupt.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ChaNeko</strong> on <strong>20-05-2013, 04:15:19</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Garrett Wylder, Caligus Occisus<br><strong>Where:</strong> backstage at the table<br><br>Taking a bite of her chèvre and bread, Rybbon hummed in agreement with Garrett about his possibly having eaten too much, a smile curling the corners of her mouth. Looking up at the new greeting, the mentor found another male tribute – this one tall and trim with the darkest eyes she had ever seen… and if she could sense it past the still distracting floral aroma in the air around her, she thought him coiled like a serpent. <br><br>Rybbon was surprised at the extreme mix of emotions roiling around in her mind as she took in Caligus’ compliment. Did he expect her to be proud of winning by strangling her last opponent from behind? She’d embraced the Capitol and its way of life mostly because she couldn’t stand being around home anymore, her reluctance to reconnect with her family still that strong after losing Brace to the Games the year before her own close experience. Maybe her time since his death wouldn’t have been so solitary if she’d not heard her love’s cries and screams before he was murdered. That he’d suffered and feared for his life for hours before being tortured further, she could never forget. And this… she had to swallow back the automatic distaste she held against career volunteers… the same kind of man that had staked Brace out with spears and sliced away his scarred flesh just to intimidate him… spoke her name, commented on her wits. She took a long moment to breathe and smiled benignly, knowing that she didn’t care for him to know anything honest about her.<br><br>Making certain to remain facing Garrett so that he wouldn’t feel left out or ignored in favor of the new conversationalist, she tilted her head to address the District 2 tribute. “I’m surprised you didn’t wait another year or two before volunteering, Caligus. More time to prepare, to be with your family,” she quietly said, keeping her face clear of emotion while watching for his reaction.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TheRaven</strong> on <strong>20-05-2013, 05:12:17</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/zvRsGnR.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Caligus Occisus, District Two Male Tribute<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, Garret Wylder<br><strong>Where:</strong> Backstage<br><br>Caligus nodded to Garrett. "I am indeed." He reasoned there was no reason to be demeaning to the other Tributes; he may have held very little beneath his smooth veneer of composed allure, but he was almost always polite. However, before he continued further with his competition, he resumed with Rybbon. He was decent enough at reading people to realize that the brief flash before her response had been one of composure, some kind of recovery, covering a crack in her impeccably decadent and carefree exterior. Fascinated by his early discovery, Caligus filed away the information in his head in case he needed it for future use.<br><br>"Call it a personal challenge," he replied, shifting himself to be able to speak to both. "Besides, what's a few years?" Of course, he wasn't going to admit outright that he had been well-trained in the years leading up to his volunteering, that he could use the knife he was using to cut into his egg whites instead to kill someone quickly, efficiently, and quietly in at least a dozen ways if he applied enough force; after all, a blunt knife at breakfast was hardly suited to those purposes. The gamemakers might frown upon someone outright admitting to cheating.<br><br>After a bite of the egg whites, chewed and swallowed before he opened his mouth, he addressed Garrett again. "So, tell me. I'm curious about you. I remember from your interview that you mentioned wanting to be a bird when Caesar asked you about animals. Was there a particular type of bird that you prefer over others?" Of course, he didn't much care on a personal level, but setting up a friendly relationship with someone who might hesitate because of it later on the killing field could provide a brief opening; just the kind of opening that Caligus would exploit to its fullest potential. He looked at Rybbon out of the corner of his eye, trying to judge if she knew what he was doing or not.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sparrowhawke</strong> on <strong>20-05-2013, 07:25:39</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w310/Sparrowhawke/02958c73-a083-4d4d-99ae-2a4ea5a76c9a_zps4d0a3f6b.jpg) (http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w310/Sparrowhawke/Garrett1_zpsce231e4c.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Garrett Wylder<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, Caligus Occisus<br><strong>Where:</strong> Backstage<br><br>Garrett kept smiling as the pair talked, his attention slowly drifting back towards the food as they did. It was so very strange to have food in front of him and not want to eat it. Well, he wanted to eat it, he was just pretty sure he’d explode all over the place if he did. He was wondering if he should risk just a <em>few</em> more bites when Caligus spoke to him again.<br><br>“Which bird?” He paused for a moment, he really hadn’t thought that far. But before long, the solution offered itself. “A mockingjay.” He gave a small, short nod. “They’re so good at singing...” That, and the fact that they could come and go as they liked. The fence was of no concern to them, nor the capitol or the games. But these thoughts did not cause his smile to falter. Freedom was a nice idea, something to daydream about all he liked, but it was not his, and he accepted that.<br><br>He looked back at Caligus, only then realizing his gaze had been drifting as he thought. An idea had occurred to him, since they were on the subject of interviews. “Can you remember your first word?” His grin was wide and innocent, as if that were a perfectly normal question to ask in response. He <em>did</em> say he had good memory, after all.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ChaNeko</strong> on <strong>20-05-2013, 10:14:44</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Garrett Wylder, Caligus Occisus<br><strong>Where:</strong> backstage at the table<br><br><em>A mockingjay and a jabberjay together at the table, hm…</em><br><br>Rybbon was glad she’d not had to answer that question about what animal she’d be. That hadn’t been one of the questions Caesar had asked the tributes back in the 57th Games. There was no clever answer from her, nothing witty to cause the audience a laugh. In fact, she quite admired Caesar’s methods of drawing a shy or reclusive interview out. He was a genius at reading people, especially the younger generation as he never seemed to age despite all his decades as the spokesperson for the Hunger Games live telecasts. She didn’t even begrudge him the question that made her cry – ‘I understand you knew one of the tributes from last year - how close was your connection to them?’<br><br>And then she’d found herself describing Brace as the caring, hard working boy she’d known and loved. She’d stared into Caesar’s heavily made up eyes and said in a shy voice that they’d planned to marry as soon as possible. She didn’t go into detail but then, she didn’t have to. Everyone understood that he’d died in those games. She’d just hoped that the gamemakers weren't going to put up the video of him being hurt or tortured. Instead, she found a tasteful image from his interview with Caesar staring down at her from a viewscreen, her sad smile breaking hearts all over Panem.<br><br>Now she sat with a seemingly hopeless Seam orphan and a shining example of lifetime encouragement from money and power. Both had a quality she didn’t like but that was unimportant and likely only a first impression. Garrett’s social weakness and dizzy discussion might be a tactic to avoid fear or a distraction for those observing him from his own powers of deduction. But it grated, just like the panic Brace had shown once he was hurt on the field. Caligus might be a caring soul, actually finding that his love for his sister carried him through this Game, wanting to return for her sake… but Rybbon doubted it. He had reminded her too strongly of how much she hated cruelty and yet relied upon it herself at the last, murdering her opponent in what her mind still tried to claim was self-defense. Kill or be killed.<br><br><em>In fact, kill 23 times or be killed once</em>, her mind drifted. <em>Well…</em> the numbers didn’t run that direction exactly. <em>Was it a blessing that most of the deaths would not happen by one hand alone? What kind of record would it be if a lone tribute committed most of the kills before the environment could take its due? What was the record for most kills by a single element – still the flood of the 70th Games? What tribute had killed the most adversaries before there were no more?</em><br><br>Eating delicately with her long black gloves, Rybbon let her green eyes turn between the men at the table with her, measuring each against her past familiarity with the challenges of the Arena. Every instinct was to gauge Caligus the winner by far in capability, adaptability, survivability. <em>What would Garrett bring to the table when he finally let his colors fly? Was he wily, a silent hider, whipcord tough and element resistant from his hard life?</em> She placed a grape upon her tongue as she glanced back to Caligus, slowly squashing it against the roof of her mouth to suck the juice down before chewing, her jaw working as she absorbed him visually. She waited for his answer if the conversation were to continue in this manner. They had a little time before needing to be at the training center below.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TheRaven</strong> on <strong>20-05-2013, 15:44:56</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/zvRsGnR.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Caligus Occisus, District Two Male Tribute<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, Garret Wylder<br><strong>Where:</strong> Backstage<br><br>Caligus thought back, trying to remember his first word. "Well, my mother would tell you it was 'mama,' my father would tell you it was 'papa,' but it was definitely 'kitty.' We had a housecat while I was growing up, and I positively adored him. His name was Caius. My parents got him when I was about a year old, so we kind of grew up together." He let his expression turn into a sort of daydreaming smile as he felt a little wave of nostalgia wash over him, bringing memories of a black cat purring in his lap with it.<br><br>The District Two boy began to peel the banana on his plate once he was back in&nbsp; the present, dicing it into manageable slices as he asked Rybbon, "So, I'm curious about the training scores. Is it better for one to have a lower score, or a higher score? I've heard varying opinions, but I want to hear it from someone who made it out of the Games alive." This one was a genuine question. During his training back home, Caligus had heard both opinions, but he had never really been able to decide which to go on. Another perspective would be helpful, especially if he wanted to make sure he came out on top. Of course, he was sure he could adapt regardless, but he wanted a good start in the arena.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ChaNeko</strong> on <strong>21-05-2013, 03:27:34</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Garrett Wylder, Caligus Occisus<br><strong>Where:</strong> backstage at the table<br><br>Musing on Caligus’ answer and somewhat dreamy expression, Rybbon wondered if she’d become a cynic over the years. <em>Surely no one was buying into what he was selling?</em> That predator might charm his way into hearts and beds alike but she wasn’t one to believe he was so moved by the memory of an early pet as to loosen his concentration here.<br><br>Rewarded with a more likely question about the tactics involving training scores, she sipped from her flute, finally getting a little of the sweet-spicy crimson liquid at the bottom. Her gaze moved between the men again, judging that so long as the information was offered between them equally, there was no favoritism tilting their odds. No, the favoritism came later, when having chosen those she thought most likely to survive and offered to become their mentor. Whoever settled with her would find her voracious in defending and aiding them, feeling her heart break all over again if they died while in her care.<br><br>She set the glass down, her gloved fingertips toying with the stem as she composed her words. “I suppose it depends on whose opinion you trust. Does it matter if your own eyes see one thing but the rest of the world claims another?” She paused, lifting her gaze to stare directly at Caligus, another sense of being hunted rather than listened to slithering along her spine. “Whatever those points are made up of will find you fans and encourage your potential sponsors to look more closely at you, but what do you think those points really say about you? If you hide your potential survivability, do your points lower from some arbitrary number? Do you start low and gain points as you impress those observing your skills? They are an opinion said aloud, the higher the number stating that someone has confidence in you to stay alive. However,” she smiled ruefully, lowering her voice, “that’s just where everything starts. The betting is the win-win situation for the Capitol. You have to have odds in order to make a betting war over so many game pieces on the same field. That’s what you are,” she reminded them both, “pieces on a chessboard. If the gamemakers don’t like what direction you go, they force you back into play with an earthquake or a monsoon or a volcano. Play the way they want you to? They generally leave you alone no matter what your score was.”<br><br>Glancing between her avid listeners, she hoped that her comments were taken to heart. This wasn’t meant to shatter spirits or lower esteem, but to warn them. The odds were never in their favor to begin with.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TheRaven</strong> on <strong>21-05-2013, 03:55:04</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/zvRsGnR.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Caligus Occisus, District Two Male Tribute<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, Garret Wylder<br><strong>Where:</strong> Backstage<br><br>The District Two Tribute had to suppress a toothy grin, instead opting for a close-lipped smile, at Rybbon's response. From what he gathered she didn't mince words, though time among the Capitol's socialites had certainly honed her deceptive edge. Caligus himself was unsure of whether or not the Mentor disliked him to the point of hatred, or if it was simply a simmering animosity, but there was something there, and it certainly wasn't the sort of female attention he was used to.<br><br>He mulled his thoughts over with a few of his banana slices, chewing with his mouth closed as he was accustomed to. Caligus had one potential tool should he find himself facing a battle of wits with Rybbon: she was guilty. Well, certainly not in the legal sense, but she felt guilt. If his studies of previous Games were anything to go on, it was not only the usual sort of guilt suffered by victors of the Hunger Games who weren't mentally conditioned for killing, but also some kind of survivor's guilt associated with a previous Tribute. He couldn't remember the boy's name, but he made a mental note to look it up, considering its potential usefulness should he find himself opposed to Rybbon.<br><br>After he had swallowed the bits of fruit, he said, "Well, that's certainly not the response I was expecting. It's a new perspective for me, certainly. I'll be sure to keep it in mind during training." If anything, it encouraged him to aim for a middling score among the Careers; just high enough to merit being included in the pack, but low enough to not make himself a target. He could handle that, certainly.<br><br>Before he moved on to the sandwich, he asked, "Garrett, and let me say I'm sincerely asking this as a potential friend rather than an enemy, do you feel ready for this? I mean, some of us have... certain advantages." He let a note of concern seep into his voice, overlaying its soft sound with what sounded like genuine sympathy. "And if you want to try to do a little catching up, I might be able to help you out."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sparrowhawke</strong> on <strong>21-05-2013, 04:30:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w310/Sparrowhawke/02958c73-a083-4d4d-99ae-2a4ea5a76c9a_zps4d0a3f6b.jpg) (http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w310/Sparrowhawke/Garrett1_zpsce231e4c.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Garrett Wylder<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, Caligus Occisus<br><strong>Where:</strong> Backstage<br><br>Garrett smiled brightly when Caligus responded. ‘Kitty.’ It was a good word. He had no idea what his own first would have been, in fact, he doubted if anyone had been around to hear it. But that didn’t matter much. Instead, he just thought of a cat he had seen around the Seam. Like him, it lived off what it could find, and what was given, the latter small in both their cases. It was small and dirty, much like he had been before the designers had been before they got their hands on him. They hadn’t been able to do much about the ‘small’ part, however. <br><br>By the time his attention came back to the pair, Caligus had moved onto more serious matters. The question of one’s score; yet another thing Garrett hadn’t bothered putting much thought into. Still, he listened closely as Rybbon explained her opinion on it. Wouldn’t do to be rude to her, after all, she seemed nice, and he would need a Mentor eventually. No sense burning bridges with one that seemed perfectly nice. No doubt the ones from other districts wouldn’t be so caring. Besides, she made a good point.<br><br>Then Caligus’ attention was back on him and there was another question posed. Garrett looked surprised for a few moments, letting silence linger. Then he laughed. The sound was that of a child that has found something truly hilarious. When he calmed, he looked back at Caligus with a grin. “Of course I’m ready,” his grin turned mischievous, “are you?” He wondered what Caligus’ reaction would be, and Rybbon’s, for that matter.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ChaNeko</strong> on <strong>21-05-2013, 05:04:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Garrett Wylder, Caligus Occisus<br><strong>Where:</strong> backstage at the table<br><br>Whatever Caligus was trying to offer Garrett, the smaller man didn’t seem to be taking. The odd pause and laughter made the older woman curious about Garrett’s state of mind. Perhaps he was just relishing in the several days of plenty before dying. That was a common reaction by those who did not have confidence in living through the turmoil of war. The smaller man might be playing up his oddness, keeping everyone watching him thrown off, not knowing what to expect. While unprepared to offer her aid at the moment, she rather liked the District 12 tribute – at least he wasn’t sniveling or catatonic. She honestly wondered if he wasn’t enjoying himself at points. His answer, more like a dare to Caligus, amused her and she lifted her glass to hide the curl of her lips, sipping her blood red beverage.<br><br>The District 2 tribute, however, still had her thrown off kilter. Even his blasé offer to help Garrett ‘catch up’ seemed oily and insincere despite his reassurances. Was she being unfair? Just because he was a volunteer didn’t make him treacherous. No… Rybbon had a feeling that Caligus would have been treacherous despite becoming a volunteer. Was that why she couldn’t keep her attention from him, keeping the viper in her sights for her own safety? It was silly, feeling like prey before him, a mentor facing a tribute. She was safe – this year anyway. She would not be butting up against him in the Arena herself, though she might be sponsoring someone who would. Was that her sticking point? Trying to judge if anyone else might beat Caligus before offering to him to become his sponsor? <em>Hells,</em> was she serious with that thought? Choose a career over the others just because he presented a smoother deadly quality? One that her mind and body responded to as if she’d heard a dry rattle from underneath some rocks, her breathing hitched and her frame forced to stay in one place lest she dart from her chair to escape him? <em>Hells again…</em> did she want to escape him? What would a merry midnight chase be like between them? Her eyes lowered to his hands, watching his reaction from under her tinted lashes.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TheRaven</strong> on <strong>21-05-2013, 06:00:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/zvRsGnR.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Caligus Occisus, District Two Male Tribute<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, Garret Wylder<br><strong>Where:</strong> Backstage<br><br>To say that Garrett's reply surprised Caligus would be a severe understatement. He had to hide the signs by biting into his sandwich and keeping his face all but unreadable for a few seconds as he decided on an appropriate remark. He had to admit, the District Twelve boy certainly had the stones to compete in the tournament. Perhaps he might be an asset after all.<br><br>"You might be singing a different tune come ten o'clock," he cautioned Garrett, projecting a facade of worry. Of course, beneath that ruse all he was really thinking about the other Tribute was whether or not he'd be worth the trouble if he performed well during the training sessions.<br><br>Of course, all the while, he was observing Rybbon. Caligus wasn't sure if he had seen the beginnings of a smile curling on her lips when Garrett offered his response. Still, the District Two boy had a mask to maintain. Once he had finished about half of his sandwich, he asked Rybbon, "Any Tributes in particular catching your eye this year from the interviews and the parade for sponsorship? The District One girl, Tara, certainly had a winner's attitude about her. I don't relish butting heads with her when the time comes." While he had the chance, he might as well try to gauge her thoughts on his competition.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ChaNeko</strong> on <strong>21-05-2013, 06:23:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Garrett Wylder, Caligus Occisus<br><strong>Where:</strong> backstage at the table<br><br>“I’m still… collecting data,” she offered, smiling softly, her head almost shaking as if to warn him from pressing further. “In fact, the biggest impressions made upon me by the stylists in the parade this year? Yours…” She turned to Garrett and nodded, “and yours. You were both presented well and made impressions.” Turning back to Caligus, she wondered if that was the answer he’d been seeking. Did he understand just what kind of impression he'd made, shining in the costume of banded amor, straight and tall and virile?<br><br>Pulling up her glass, she sipped the last of the deep red liquid, her tongue making an appearance between her frosted lips to steal the last of the flavor. She continued to eat in relative silence, staring at the volunteer’s face, curious if his or her own outfit was blacker… or their hearts. If their minds were circuiting the same routes, guided by the instincts of their bodies. Oh, he might be poisonous but the pleasure of finding out could be worth it.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sparrowhawke</strong> on <strong>21-05-2013, 06:38:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w310/Sparrowhawke/02958c73-a083-4d4d-99ae-2a4ea5a76c9a_zps4d0a3f6b.jpg) (http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w310/Sparrowhawke/Garrett1_zpsce231e4c.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Garrett Wylder<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, Caligus Occisus<br><strong>Where:</strong> Backstage<br><br>Garrett’s eyes shone for just a moment as he took in both Rybbon’s and Caligus’ reactions. They were both enjoyable for entirely different reasons. Rybbon’s showed the potential of a mentor, and Caligus... Well, he enjoyed that reaction for entirely personal reasons. His smile remained as Caligus spoke again, spewing out concern that Garrett had no need for. He remained silent, instead, continuing to watch the pair. <br><br>Once again the other tribute had posed a question to which the answer could well be useful. The other twenty two, one from his district, young men and women that statistics stated would be dead within a few weeks. Her response wasn’t quite as useful, this time. She only said what he supposed should have been obvious. They would have to wait, go down to that room where they would train the tributes to kill each other and survive in turn.<br><br>He did smile, however, when Rybbon commented on his costume. “I was all dusty.” It had itched somewhat, and it had taken some convincing to get him to leave it alone, not to smear it all about and ruin the impression of musculature they had created. “I think I look better now.” He leaned forward, moving to take his plate once again. His stomach had settled, and he could sense that they would be moving on soon. He wanted to get a little more food in his belly before that happened.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TheRaven</strong> on <strong>21-05-2013, 07:16:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/zvRsGnR.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Caligus Occisus, District Two Male Tribute<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, Garret Wylder<br><strong>Where:</strong> Backstage<br><br>"Nothing involving the Games happens without cause, as I'm sure you know," Caligus told Rybbon. "So trust me when I say I know exactly what the intended effect of that particular costume was." He was given a bit of pause by her initial answer; being dissuaded from asking meant that there was nowhere without eyes. He had expected as much, but now his suspicions were confirmed.<br><br>As he finished what remained of his sandwich in silence, he was eying the Mentor back. He knew there was absolutely no trust between him and her at this point, if not active distrust on her part, but there was still something there. It wasn't an infatuation, certainly, for he knew the particular signals for that and he was getting none of them. It was too intense, too...<br><br>He paused for a moment, chewing thoughtfully while trying to procure the proper word. Perhaps belligerent? Tense? Something to that effect. Regardless of what it was, he would need to keep a weather eye on Rybbon. So far she had seemed not quite well-disposed to him.<br><br>After finishing his sandwich, Caligus said, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I do believe the training session begins soon." He picked up his green apple and casually made his way towards the elevator, taking a large bite out of it before the doors closed and he began the descent to the training centre.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ChaNeko</strong> on <strong>21-05-2013, 07:39:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Garrett Wylder, Caligus Occisus<br><strong>Where:</strong> backstage at the table<br><br>Leaning to assure Garrett that “You look real now,” she smiled softly, wondering if that was what he meant to present. Her eyes leapt back to Caligus upon hearing his comment about intentions and impressions. She took the last grape from her plate and ate it slowly as the man rose, bidding a farewell. She nodded, turning to Garrett once more.<br><br>“You don’t have to be in training until 10, but you can bet that many of the tributes and sponsors are already there. I don’t want to see you uncomfortable with having overeaten. Will you take care of yourself?” The question meant so much more than the simple words it took to utter it. She watched him carefully, working all her senses (aha! He was the source of that floral aroma somehow.) to delve into whether he’d be a contender for the Arena or plan and control his own demise for the sake of dignity. He’d put on a convincing show so far of distracted nonsense – she’d be hard pressed to assume him a sudden likelihood of winning.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sparrowhawke</strong> on <strong>21-05-2013, 08:16:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w310/Sparrowhawke/02958c73-a083-4d4d-99ae-2a4ea5a76c9a_zps4d0a3f6b.jpg) (http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w310/Sparrowhawke/Garrett1_zpsce231e4c.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Garrett Wylder<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, Caligus Occisus<br><strong>Where:</strong> Backstage<br><br>Garrett watched as Caligus stood and left, taking another bite of the still warm food from his plate. It wasn’t until he was gone that Garrett acknowledged Rybbon further. “Yes... More myself.” He looked back at her, smiling even more. “I know you’re worried about me. Don’t be.” He placed his plate aside again, just one bite had told him he really wasn’t getting more in before training began, a shame.<br><br>“I know how to deal with people like him.” As he spoke, he seemed to become more sober, more sane, perhaps, but it was gone a moment later, replaced by his usual grin. “We should go before we’re late, wouldn’t want to make the game makers grumpy. We might give them wrinkles.” He giggled, standing and looking in the direction of the elevators. He glanced back at her for a moment, hesitating, before moving towards it. It was time to meet the others, and while he didn’t fear them, it was a thought he didn’t much relish. He was far more used to being alone, and especially not with people that wanted him dead.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ChaNeko</strong> on <strong>21-05-2013, 17:00:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Garrett Wylder<br><strong>Where:</strong> backstage at the table<br><br>Whatever the reality, his words soothed her slightly, making the guilt of expecting his demise rest behind her curiosity. She was looking forward to observing from the platform, watching the tributes practice and learn. She knew Garrett would be one to review constantly, his ability to deflect attention already exceptional. She anticipated some long hours after the training time was over, watching the individual tributes from the recordings, looking for signs of potential and the desire to live.<br><br>She lifted her gloved hand in acknowledgement of his parting but didn’t immediately rise herself. She scanned the room slowly, watching other tributes eating and glaring at each other surreptitiously, moving toward the elevators. The time was coming – the training was about to begin. The pregame show had started with the parade and would end at the announcement of their training scores. And she was a reluctant participant in branding these poor souls with a number that essentially meant nothing. Only their actual performance in the Arena would count for anything.<br><br>But her involvement was necessary for the Capitol to have their pleasures, to judge by proxy whether one tribute would give them good entertainment or would be a dud. And in doing her job, she’d be offering her help to whoever had either a likelihood of winning or at least making the best show before dying.<br><br><em>Heavens,</em> sometimes she hated this part. But once the Game began, she’d be too busy to worry over what had passed. She’d be concentrated on angling for whatever assistance she could gain or buy for her tribute from outside the Game. That was the bread and butter, the adrenaline rush for her. No matter how they finally fared, she would know that she’d done her best to help them – that she’d done her job. The better they fared or showed, the better her rewards after, and while that was usually incentive enough some years, she commonly had to weep for several days when losing a tribute that had ended up close within her heart.<br><br>She hated that feeling... loss.<br><br>Maybe she should work toward offering her service as a mentor to one of the careers this time – no danger of weeping after they died and she’d yet to pick a winner. Maybe this was the year. She moved from the table, glancing to the huge view screen behind her. Her eyes narrowed against the video of past Games before turning away to join the other mentors and sponsors on the observation deck.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lurking</strong> on <strong>05-06-2013, 00:08:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i44.tinypic.com/alhjdd.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Carmen Brindle, District 2 Tribute<br><strong>With:</strong> Other Tributes<br><strong>Where:</strong> District 2 Female Bedroom<br><br>The beds here were better then Carmen had been expecting. She had heard the noise of other tributes leaving their rooms early, doors shutting, elevators opening and closing. For the most part she ignored these sounds, content to lay under the covers of her beautiful double bed. The linin was soft and light, holding in warmth but not smothering her body. She may not have ever known suffering or hunger, but boy she had never known luxury like this. She knew the doors to the training room opened at eight, even if it didn’t officially start until ten. She weighed up the option of getting up early to train, or spending a couple of extra hours resting. It wasn’t a decision she needed to think much about, closing her eyes and enjoying the comfort brought on by a soft pillow. <br><br>It felt like she had only just drifted back off to sleep when a fist hammered on the outside of her door. “Get up and then down to the training hall, you’ve got ten minutes!” the voice called through to her room. Carmen let out a small sigh, looks like it’s show time already. She rose quickly, right into the shower and out again in under five minutes, letting the water simple pour over her body briefly, before she returned to her room and dressed. Their training gear was pretty standard, but it was practical and that’s all that Carmen cared about. <br><br>As she stepped out of her room she saw she was far from the only one waiting until ten to go down to the hall. There were many other young tributes waiting by the elevator doors, ready to go down. Most of them looked terrified, they had either been waiting in their rooms for fear of meeting the other tributes, or eating breakfast in the common room. A growl from Carmen’s stomach reminded her she had yet to eat. She dashed to the common room and grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl. She quickly peeled it and ate it down as she waited in line for space in the lift. She finished her breakfast quickly, telling herself it wouldn’t be long before lunch was served in the hall. She tossed the skin into the nearby trash can as she stepped into the lift, ready to be taken down to the training hall.&nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ChaNeko</strong> on <strong>25-06-2013, 06:02:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-size: 16pt;" class="bbc_size"><em>Hours later -</em></span><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Atlas Yule<br><strong>Where:</strong> private locked room<br><br>Rybbon let out a gasp as she fell to the bed, her arms wrapping up around Atlas naturally as he joined her. The soft gloves covering her hands would not allow her fingers to feel enough detail of his short hair as she reached up to caress the back of his skull. She half moaned under the rough kiss, peeling the gloves off behind him, writhing with his searching hands.<br><br>He’d just reached for the long panels of her skirt, possibly to strip her undergarments away, possibly just to caress her thigh… but she reacted with an amateur knee to his lower ribs, more trying to throw him off balance mentally rather than physically. She squirmed and yanked away from him, fighting her way onto her front, trying to crawl across the bed away from him. Her grin, if he could catch a glimpse of it, was ecstatic and wide, relieved that he’d wanted her so badly as to interrupt their workday for a quickie behind closed doors.<br><br>Not that a quickie up against the wall of the observation deck wouldn’t have been a thrill. However, she didn’t find it professional to attempt such with the trainers milling around downstairs, the other mentors likely to return to the upper level for more study of the tributes below. <em>Hells, Seneca Crane could have walked in on them at any point. What would have occurred in response in that case?</em> Would there have been some embarrassing comment quipped just to stab the shame in deeper? Would she have found herself relegated to her home district, banished from the Capitol for her indiscretion? Would the Gamemaker have found some other method of utilizing the desperate sexual contact to his purpose? Taking the vids of their unwisely timed and placed actions together, editing up a presentation to advertise their sudden sexual availability? She’d never been sold by another party simply because she’d been too eager to give her body away for free. Assuming a responsibility for her own pleasure, Rybbon had found solace in many partners shortly after her victory. She’d been relatively indiscriminate so long as she found something attractive within them and could enjoy/endure their touch. Anything to keep the nightmares from haunting her mind.<br><br>It frightened her that a favorite returning partner seemed to prefer her company in return. That didn’t bode well for their futures. Commonly, something tragic would happen to limit or eliminate their ability to enjoy each other right about now… but she couldn’t think on that too hard. At least they could say goodbye with their bodies, just in case it was the last time.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Prince Truhan</strong> on <strong>25-06-2013, 15:11:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.nndb.com/people/094/000103782/dominic-purcell-1-sized.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Atlas Yule, Mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer<br><strong>Where:</strong> Private Locked Room<br><br>A soft moan escaped his lips as he felt her bare hands, her gloves more of a fashion choice than his, but still the idea of her taking them off to touch him affected him.<br><br>He overreacted to her knee movement acting out of instinc more than perception, his roll allowing her to momentarily escape him, there was just a glimpse of her smile as he chased after her, grabbing her and dragging her underneath him. He pinned her down with his body and unceremoniously raised her skirt exposing her thin black panties.<br><br>As he held her down with both the weight of his body and one of his hands the other one rubbed her through her panties, they couldn't take too long without someone suspecting something, but he still wanted to enjoy all of her, it had been too long since he had her, and although there had been the subtle promise of sharing that night together as well what mattered was what happened in the present.<br><br>Soon he started to remove her clothes wanting access to all of her body, seeing and touching it, as soon as the part of her neck that was covered by her clothes was exposed he bit it hard enough to draw blood, as he let out a soft moan and licked it.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ChaNeko</strong> on <strong>25-06-2013, 16:21:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Atlas Yule<br><strong>Where:</strong> private locked room<br><br>Tossed and dragged into the middle of the mattress, Rybbon wriggled and fought back, her curling hair flying between them. His gloved hands upon her brought reminders of their past times together to the forefront of her mind. She reveled in how the material caressed and scraped over her skin as he pawed along her body, trying to strip her dress away. The vertical panels holding her breasts hostage suddenly released and she squealed as his mouth encircled the sensitive flesh behind her neck. Atlas nipped her hard and she shuddered, feeling like cougar held physically under her mate’s attention. Her hips lifted, allowing the space needed to peel her nearly sheer panties down her hips.<br><br>The flaring ribbon design of her skirt was useless against keeping modest now that he had her flung over his bed. The black material swept out away from her body, rivulets of ink spilling from between them. A pair of thunks announced the dropping of her shoes to the floor behind them. Rybbon twisted to reach for one of his hands, pulling it half under her chest so that she might remove his glove and feel his naked flesh upon her breast.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Prince Truhan</strong> on <strong>25-06-2013, 17:03:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.nndb.com/people/094/000103782/dominic-purcell-1-sized.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Atlas Yule, Mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer<br><strong>Where:</strong> Private Locked Room<br><br>Her discarded clothes were soon on the floor by the bed, as she pulled on his glove he doubted just a second before helping her and releasing his hand from the leather, moving it to her breasts as he started to caress them, his touch was rough because his skin was, but he had learned that she enjoyed it.<br><br>His other hand, the gloved one, caressed her exposed sex briefly before moving to his own pants, eager to release the hardness she had caused, he did so quickly and his hard cock jumped out touching her leg as he let out a loud moan.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ChaNeko</strong> on <strong>25-06-2013, 17:28:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Atlas Yule<br><strong>Where:</strong> private locked room<br><br>Rybbon, while long of limb and fit in health, had no advantage against her stronger partner with him atop her on the giving mattress. She arched and wriggled, only half trying to get away as she felt his erection slide against her thigh. Laughing, she whipped about to snap something witty at him but his gloved hand was drawing her knee upward toward her chest, his legs straddling her straightened one. Hooking her knee over his forearm, he planted it on the bed, using his weight to trap her in that awkward spread position. She gasped and flicked her green gaze up at him from the side, recognizing that he might not stop at this point, all her dancing and teasing having instilled in him a need for her wet corridor.<br><br>She tightened inside in anticipation, a shiver of arousal electrifying her body. She used one arm to sweep her gilded hair up above her, out of his way, baring her throat and ear to him. it wasn’t until the blunted tip of him nudged between her moistened petals that she gave voice to her concerns: would he hurt her enough to make her wobble or wince as she moved back to the observation deck later? Just as she started to ask him for a hint of his mood, she felt the inexorable pressure between her folds and could only remember his name for a moment as his head pierced between her hips.<br><br>“Atlaaa… ahhhhhh!” she cried, panting, turning her face to the sheets as she concentrated on the stretch of her entrance around him.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Prince Truhan</strong> on <strong>25-06-2013, 17:42:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.nndb.com/people/094/000103782/dominic-purcell-1-sized.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Atlas Yule, Mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer<br><strong>Where:</strong> Private Locked Room<br><br>Atlas had no intention of stopping and every intention of leaving her as hurt as he could, she could take it, and it would be a reminder until the night, something that would keep his touch alive on her after they left the room even if for some strange reason they didn't meet that night she would still feel him.<br><br>He plunged himself deep into her as his eyes gazed into hers, it was a powerful look and the seriousness on his face was only interrupted by generous moans that her wet tightness caused as he moved inside of her.&nbsp; His hand gripped her leg tight, and he moved down biting her neck once more making her bleed, his teeth latching on to her as he pounded her hard and deep.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ChaNeko</strong> on <strong>25-06-2013, 18:13:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Atlas Yule<br><strong>Where:</strong> private locked room<br><br>Rybbon had no alternative but to ride the wave of lustful abandon as Atlas thrust into her. His body was hot, still only half undressed. Claiming her, he’d pinned her into a position where she had no leverage or control even though her hands were relatively free. One lay trapped by the elbow under her ribs, causing her to gasp with every movement. The other was pressed against the sheets before her face, her gold painted nails gripping into the material while she panted against her naked wrist.<br><br>As his teeth skipped against her neck, biting just hard enough to pin her skin between his teeth and hold on, she cried out, wondering if he’d become more feral or desperate for distraction since just months ago. She didn’t recall him mounting her like an animal for some time. Feeling the rush of sex-crazed adrenaline, she welcomed the sensations of pain and pleasure, thinking of them as two sides to the same coin. It would be easy to remind herself of their time together with such bruises and markings embedded into her skin.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Prince Truhan</strong> on <strong>26-06-2013, 02:55:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.nndb.com/people/094/000103782/dominic-purcell-1-sized.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Atlas Yule, Mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer<br><strong>Where:</strong> Private Locked Room<br><br>He kept going, fueled with animalistic lust, wanting more and more, giving it to her forcefully knowing she could take it, he kept biting her sure that he was going to leave a mark as he kept pounding her deep and hard.<br><br>Atlas had known when he had seen Rybbon that they would end up in bed together, he wasn't sure of how soon that would be, it was sooner than probably both of them had expected, that was his fault as she had tried to push him away, not that such games were strange to them. His ungloved hand focused on her breasts, rubbing them whole, first one then the other.<br><br>"It's been too long Rybbon" he told her between loud moans as he kept pounding her furiously, he wouldn't admit more than the way they connected in bed, it was better to keep other feelings out of the way, even if they existed.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ChaNeko</strong> on <strong>26-06-2013, 04:57:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Atlas Yule<br><strong>Where:</strong> private locked room<br><br>Rybbon was trapped under Atlas, wrapped in his arms, grunting and crying out with his harsh movements, stabbing up into her. She closed her eyes, blushing at her own emotional reaction to his growled words. Gritting her teeth, she shook her head hard, tearing her upper body away from him by inches. She twisted and turned her face to him, wrapping a hand up behind his neck. “You can’t… stand it… without me?” she uttered in a low voice, interrupted with rough breathing as her exhales were forced from her lungs. She groaned, shuddering in pleasure, the ache inside her channel building up to a fast climax.<br><br>Blinking up into his face, she half bit her own lip, her eyes narrowed at him. She was trying to decide if any confession of his feelings for her mattered. She’d just continue to fuck him when she wished, using him for her purposes. Would she feel safer if he claimed to be using her in the same manner, just rutting with her for their mutual entertainment and distraction. Hells, did she really mean that when it occurred in her head – was she just using him? What would happen to them both if she had developed feelings for the other victor? Weren’t they cursed to live their lives without the other?<br><br>Rybbon bit into her lower lip hard, bruising the delicate flesh. She groaned again, starting to fight him, scratching with her nails across the back of his neck. Crying out with his thrusts, she tried to loosen his hold on her, turning toward her side to better face him, to better slap at him, determined to deserve her bruises.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Prince Truhan</strong> on <strong>26-06-2013, 15:41:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.nndb.com/people/094/000103782/dominic-purcell-1-sized.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Atlas Yule, Mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer<br><strong>Where:</strong> Private Locked Room<br><br>Could he stand it without her, he had, he supposed he could, still that was something he didn't want to consider or deal with, it had become easy to see Rybbon often, to spend time with someone that understood him, she had been a very rare find one he doubted he would make again.<br><br>"I could make it, we have both made it through worse. You do help me"&nbsp; he said sincerely, like hers, his brain was programmed to accept loss and a part of him thought he might have to go without her support in the future.<br><br>As she started to scratch him that pushed any romantic thoughts away as he was brought completely to the moment, as she got slightly loose she slapped him loudly. He looked at her with a smile on his face, and with a soft growl after letting go of her leg pinched both of her nipples hard twisting them, he moved forward and bit on the other side, his hips kept thrusting hard. If she wanted to fight he would give her a proper fight. He knew his hands on her breasts left him open to more of her attacks, at the moment he probably welcomed them.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ChaNeko</strong> on <strong>27-06-2013, 17:14:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Atlas Yule<br><strong>Where:</strong> private locked room<br><br>Rybbon was confused by his simple statements. Sure, they’d both survived without the other but could they now? Each had been leached into the other’s consciousness. They sought each other out. They looked forward to meeting again under whatever unlikely or untimely circumstances, desperate for the collision of their bodies. Was it anything more than that? She couldn’t think straight… he was pounding her, driving his shaft into her channel, and she moaned as an electric tingle suffused her body.<br><br><em>His hands, oh those marvelous, dangerous hands!</em> She gave a shriek as his fingers grasped and tortured her breasts, writhing to end up mostly upon her back. Her leg was trapped between them, her knee practically curled over his shoulder. Spread as she was, he had a perfect angle to access her cunny. She didn’t sense any fatigue, any need to slow on his part, so she cried out again as her cylindrical muscles tightened around him in a spasm. She was on the verge of orgasm and was staring up into his face, amazed. Such brutality, such trust. How did they get here?<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Prince Truhan</strong> on <strong>27-06-2013, 18:20:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.nndb.com/people/094/000103782/dominic-purcell-1-sized.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Atlas Yule, Mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer<br><strong>Where:</strong> Private Locked Room<br><br>His answers were short and dry for a reason, he saw nothing to gain from admitting more, maybe he feared the real answer, not so much for what Rybbon might think of him, but more of how his own thinking would be affected. He wasn't sure if she needed her if he said something to that effect aloud he suspected he would know.<br><br>Knowing brought a whole set of problems to light, ideally they could share each others feelings and enjoy themselves further, more possible those feelings would drive them apart out of their inability to dear with their fears of loss.<br><br>He focused on the physical sensations for now, trying to push those thoughts away and succeeding easily, he had no intention of slowing down, he wanted, needed more of her, more of the sensations, his hands again twisted her nipples hard, hard enough to make sure the pain would stay with her all through the day.<br><br>His hips pushed him as deep as he could go inside of her, and loud grunts came from his mouth each time he hit deep inside of her. He looked into her eyes as she spasmed "Cum for me Rybbon" he told her in a growl wondering how she would react to that <em>order</em> would she obey happily or get angry and strike him again, he liked not knowing, and he knew he would enjoy either.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ChaNeko</strong> on <strong>28-06-2013, 03:57:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Atlas Yule<br><strong>Where:</strong> private locked room<br><br>Rybbon tossed her head back, a scream welling in her throat at the harsh treatment of her breasts. Under his order, she didn’t seem capable of holding back, much as she might have wanted to slow things down. She screamed again, more a cry of surrender, her body shuddering as the climax rushed through her. As her hips jolted under his pistoning action, her spine whipped in an undulation that matched the uncontrolled squeezing around his meat.<br><br>Her fingers, curled into claws, latched out around his upper arms, striping his shoulders as she gripped his muscles. Another guttural cry ripped from her open lips and echoed from the ceiling, reverberating around them in his plush bedroom. It was all she could do to hold on, quivering, panting as he continued plunging into her throughout her forceful orgasm.<br><br>She didn’t wilt. She didn’t faint. She didn’t whimper. What traipsed though her mind was hers alone to know, but the angry green eyes that spit venom from between her lashes spoke volumes. She would get even… eventually.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Prince Truhan</strong> on <strong>28-06-2013, 04:48:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.nndb.com/people/094/000103782/dominic-purcell-1-sized.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Atlas Yule, Mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer<br><strong>Where:</strong> Private Locked Room<br><br>She obeyed... well her body did, she let out a loud screen matched by a groan of his own, when he felt her body climaxing against him he couldn't hold back his own orgasm anymore, nor did he want to. His cock exploded deep into her spurting more and more of his cum into her pussy, filling her with his essence as his body kept pounding.<br><br>He felt her clawing and welcomed the pain along with the pleasure, as they continued to orgasm until at last they came out from it together, what followed wasn't two lovers petting each other, or softly kissing, her eyes showed anger, showed promise for more.<br><br>Atlas gave out a smile, something to push her desire for vengeance further, he quickly let go of it though and moved his face against hers and kissed her deeply and forcefully, her revenge could, and probably would wait until later.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ChaNeko</strong> on <strong>28-06-2013, 06:26:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Atlas Yule<br><strong>Where:</strong> private locked room<br><br>Rybbon nearly bit Atlas as he leaned to kiss her, but she already needed a change of clothes before returning to the training room. She didn’t need him sporting a matching bite as a trophy. Allowing the kiss, she winced slightly, her own bruised lower lip already stinging with the pressure of his mouth upon hers. A soft moan followed, gold tinted lashes fluttering around her gaze.<br><br>“Get off,” she whispered, pushing at him roughly. She ducked away from him, sliding off the bed. Stumbling as far as her weakened legs would carry her, she dragged up her clothing and started pulling them across her nakedness. She ignored the panties, smirking at him as she turned away, leaving the sheer black material on his floor. Her skirt flared around her bare hips as she stormed out, shaking her hair around her shoulders. Half trying to obscure the marks upon her throat, she didn’t bother glancing other directions but headed to her room immediately, intent on hiding the bites and bruises from the tributes and other mentors. At least, she would appear professional before them.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Prince Truhan</strong> on <strong>29-06-2013, 00:04:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.nndb.com/people/094/000103782/dominic-purcell-1-sized.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Atlas Yule, Mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> Rybbon Latimer<br><strong>Where:</strong> Private Locked Room<br><br>He did as she asked and got off, as much enjoyment as he had just gotten he could hardly wait for their next encounter. He knew she would have to hide whatever exposed marks he had left, at first he had tried to prevent making any but soon the passion got the better out of him. They both valued the little privacy they could get and her parading bruises wasn't a way to keep it.<br><br>"I'll see you later." he said before she stormed off, knowing she would get her revenge sooner or later.<br><br>After she left he took a few minutes to clean himself and become presentable once more, only then he would rejoin the table for a closer look at the tributes
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Hunger Games: Backstage </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>ChaNeko</strong> on <strong>29-06-2013, 00:39:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong> Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br><strong>With:</strong> alone<br><strong>Where:</strong> private bedroom/training center observation deck<br><br>Rybbon hadn’t brought a great deal of clothing along with her, preferring to purchase new designs every time she visited the Capitol. Luckily the temperature in District 10 was lower than here, even in the Victor’s Village. She’d worn a very soft sweater on the train ride here. Whipping it out, she made certain it was clean and changed clothes in a hurry, hoping her absence was unquestioned – or that any questions about it could be fended off with a sarcastic quip rather than an admission of the truth; that she’d been getting her brains fucked out.<br><br>Grinning at her reflection in a mirror, she rearranged her hair, letting the gold laced curls fluff out around the mulberry purple material. Black skintight leather pants complimented the look, adding short boots to the ensemble. It didn’t occur to her just how closely to Caligus’ Tyrian signature she matched until she was entering the observation box once more, looking at the vid of all the tributes below from hours earlier. <em>Hells!</em> Did she unconsciously do that? Was it truly an accident? Forcing herself back to work, she studied the videos of the previous training and made her notes, angry at herself more than at Atlas… and looking forward to being angry with a particular tribute.<br>
			</dd>
		</dl>
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