forum ame’s art and writing dump (or: ame’s one and only coping mechanism)

Started October 28, 2023 by @the-void-phantasmic group

tune

Alright, here’s my way of introducing all the tributes :))
Sorry if the descriptions are kinda shit, also a good chunk of these are ocs so don’t fret if you don’t recognize them!

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July 4, 2306
The Capitol Train

Resh walked silently through the corridors of the train that was taking him and the other tributes to the Capitol, staring at the ground. His hair had been taken out of its braid, and now messily fell over his face. He brushed a section of hair out of his view to look around at the three people accompanying him. His fellow tribute, Archer Drew, who was a few years younger than him, and had a lively, determined aura even while being shipped off to the Hunger Games. His and Archer’s mentor, Callisto Dorado, who stared straight ahead, her posture rigid and her expression. . . slightly violent. And their Capitol escort, Camelia Nightbloom, who seemed relatively normal despite her Capitol origins.

The group was led by Camelia to a separate compartment of the train, where they would get to know the other tributes from their Reapings. Resh swallowed hard as he tried not to think about Tsadi and Teth, and what their faces would look like as they saw Resh walking up to the stage.

The tributes from District One looked like typical District One kids. Everett Ventura, a tall, lean boy with light brown hair and brown eyes that looked nearly black, seemed pretty unassuming, but he could no doubt take someone in a fight. Miles Edgeworth, a well-mannered looking boy, stood next to Everett, his confidence very clear in his expression. Resh could tell that Miles would easily win the favor of sponsors, with both his personality and his looks, typical of one from his District.

Next was Resh’s own District, District Two. Resh watched himself walking onto the stage, taking a deep breath as he looked into his own worry-stricken eyes. He definitely didn’t look like a District Two kid; thin, but not frail, his white hair falling into his almost pallid face. He was worried and fidgety, a stark contrast to his counterpart, Archer Drew. Despite being younger, only fourteen, he looked a lot less anxious. Archer was obviously shorter than Resh, but he appeared physically stronger. His amber eyes flashed with courage, something Resh hoped he would develop in the week leading up to the Games.

The tributes from District Three were almost polar opposites of each other. The first tribute, Caroline Johnson, was a tall, well-built girl, with long, brown hair and dark eyes. She had an almost sinister look on her face, as if she was excited to participate in the Games. That alone sent a chill down Resh’s spine. The other tribute was a small, pale girl, with short, black hair and bright blue eyes, named Alice Miller. Alice looked terrified, to say the least. Resh felt a pang of sympathy for the younger girl. . . she didn’t stand a chance.

The District Four tributes similarly didn’t seem to stand a chance in the Games. The first tribute was a girl that looked eerily similar to Resh in her complexion, named Aurora Blanche. Her light blonde waves fell just past her shoulders, and her pale blue gaze fell right on the cameras as she smiled solemnly. She was. . . a strange girl, Resh thought. Her counterpart, Sayori Fujioka, had needed to be dragged to the stage by the Peacekeepers, as she had seemed too stunned to walk up herself. Her strawberry-blonde hair, ruffled from the small tussle, just barely reached her chin, contrasting her tear-filled blue eyes.

District Five’s tributes. There wasn’t much about them that was of note. Luna Lovegood, the first tribute, almost skipped up to the stage. Her hair was long, wavy, and dirty blonde. Her blue eyes seemed so far away as she looked around at everything except for the people there. She said something in a light, dreamy voice, but it was carried away by the breeze. The other tribute, Spectra Darkwood, just looked angry. With good reason, of course. Their light brown hair fell to their waist, their bangs cut straight across their forehead, and their silver eyes held a ferocity normally only found in Career tributes from Districts One, Two, and Four.

The tributes from District Six looked similar to the tributes from One. Topaz Barnett, a girl with tan skin and fiery orange hair, glared at everyone, especially the Capitol escort on stage. Resh would have found her almost feral behavior amusing, if it weren’t for the fact that he would be pitted against her in the arena. On the other hand, Phoenix Wright, her counterpart, looked a bit nervous. Phoenix’s oddly spiked hair immediately caught Resh’s attention, and he almost laughed despite the tense mood. Phoenix looked about Archer’s age, but he definitely didn’t have the amount of confidence Archer did.

The District Seven tributes both looked strangely calm. The first tribute, William Afton, was a thin, pale boy with messy hair and grey eyes. He had his arms crossed as he stared straight ahead, completely unfazed by the situation. He carried a similar demeanor to Caroline, which worried Resh. Harper Blackett, a tall girl with her black hair tied up into a ponytail, studied her fellow tribute as she stood on the stage, calm and composed but certainly not unfazed. She definitely looked like one of the more sane tributes.

Next were the District Eight tributes. The first tribute, a lanky girl with long, black hair and bluish-purple eyes, had almost tripped onto the stage, but quickly caught herself. Her name was Jasper Weber. She looked around and fidgeted nervously, seemingly shrinking in on herself. The other tribute, Noah Dawson, was tall and muscular, with messy black hair that fell to his shoulders. He looked almost as nervous as Jasper did, his soft brown eyes flitting across the crowd restlessly.

The tributes from District Nine both looked way too nice to be in the Games. The first one, Wheatley Platt, had an awkward grin on his face that was clearly meant to hide his dread. Unfortunately for him, his blue eyes clearly gave away the terror he was without a doubt feeling. Ginny Weasley, a small, kind-looking girl with long, ginger hair and hazel eyes, seemed very worried as she stepped onto the stage. She looked at someone—or multiple people— in the crowd with a forlorn expression, most likely family.

District Ten’s tributes looked like they could be related. Surprisingly, or maybe less surprisingly, given their personalities, they weren’t. Yuri Yoshika, the first tribute, was a tall girl with deep purple eyes and raven black hair, who looked incredibly timid as she avoided the stares of the crowd and the Capitol escort alike. Jax Owens, on the other hand, wore a wide, smug grin, baring his yellowed teeth at the crowd before him. His hair was tangled and fell into his eyes, and he didn’t look nearly as worried as he should have.

District Eleven’s tributes were both young girls, one was twelve and the other was fourteen. The twelve-year-old tribute, Juniper Aquila, her vivid green eyes already brimming with tears, set off several alarms in Resh’s mind. He instantly felt his protective instincts kick in. She was just barely twelve, and forced into a game of death. He tore his gaze from the girl as the other tribute, Melody Baird, walked onto the stage. Melody was a bit taller than Juniper, with a dark complexion and long, black hair. She was slightly more composed than her counterpart, but equally as distressed.

And finally, District Twelve’s tributes. The first one, Apollo Stellaris, stiffly walked up to the stage, clearly avoiding looking at something. Resh saw that one of his eyes, instead of being the trademark grey of District Twelve, was a light blue, not jarring but certainly noticeable. A younger boy, presumably a sibling, yelled something as Peacekeepers held him back from the stage. Resh quickly learned the boy’s name, Artemis Stellaris, as he was also called up. Apollo’s expression had shifted to confusion, then dread as Artemis slowly walked onto the stage, visibly trembling. The two brothers held hands, the younger of the two clinging to the older for dear life.

Resh sighed and looked down, completely ignoring the screen now. His hatred for the Capitol only grew while watching the Reapings, especially the one in District Eleven. He up looked at the others. Archer had his brows furrowed in an expression that Resh couldn’t quite read, and Callisto looked angry. She looked over at Resh and Archer, studying them for a moment before speaking.

“Well, we certainly have a lot of work to do.”

Oops this is a tiny bit shitty
They’ll get to the Capitol soon I promise but y’all needed to meet Quinn <3

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July 4, 2306
The Capitol Train

Apollo sat in the dining hall with Artemis, Decima, and he and Artemis's mentor, Quinn Hall. Apollo was silent as Decima chattered excitedly, mostly about the luxuries and festivities that were to be at the Capitol. He had mostly tuned out Decima, although he could hear his brother awkwardly trying to seem engaged in what little conversation happened. Quinn was equally silent, blankly staring out of the window.

Quinn vaguely reminded Apollo of Atlas, and he couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was. He supposed they looked similar, Quinn had narrow features and a chronically tired demeanor, just like Atlas. Apollo noticed Quinn’s hairstyle was similar to his own. Short, black curls, but Quinn’s were slightly longer and more unruly.

Apollo cleared his throat, quickly growing tired of Decima’s rambling. Decima went silent, looking at Apollo curiously, while Quinn simply blinked and glanced at him.

“Uh. . . I think it would be a good idea to think of strategies. That’s the whole reason we’re meeting with Quinn, yes?”

Decima tilted her head, then nodded. “Oh, yes, of course.” She smiled, and Apollo resisted the urge to punch her square in the jaw as she stood up and migrated to a different chair, where she wouldn’t intrude on the discussion between the other three. That woman infuriated him, being so excited and bubbly when several children were being sent to their deaths. And was made it worse was that all the Capitol people were like this, and he was headed straight to. . . well, the Capitol.

Quinn sighed, then leaned forward in his seat, staring at Apollo and Artemis for a long moment before speaking. “So, Apollo and Artemis Stellaris. You two are siblings, right?” Apollo and Artemis nodded.

“Good,” said Quinn. “That means if we play our cards right, we could get you two a lot of sponsors.” Quinn glanced between the two brothers, then leaned back again. “Of course, that’s not all we need to do, but it’s a good start.”

Apollo arched an eyebrow at Quinn. “And what exactly do you mean, ‘if we play our cards right’?”

Quinn hummed. “Well, I thought it was obvious. The audience would definitely root for the big brother who just wants to keep the little one alive. So if we just play into that, they’ll love you.”

Apollo really didn’t like the idea of winning the favor of an audience who was just there to watch children die, but if it helped Artemis’s chance of survival, then he didn’t mind. He nodded. “Seems simple enough. That is my main goal.”

Artemis spoke up. “But what about actually surviving. . ?”

Quinn gestured to Apollo. “Simple. Apollo keeps you both alive as long as possible.” Quinn’s expression grew dark. “. . . But it may come down to you or him in the end. Don’t forget that the Hunger Games can only have one victor.” He paused. “I guess this would be easier if you didn’t have a third sibling at home.”

Apollo sighed. “You guessed right.” At least one of them had to stay alive, for Atlas. Which meant losing the other. Apollo gripped his armrest tightly. He couldn’t let Artemis die, he wouldn’t.

Quinn stared at the two for a bit longer. “How about you two head to your rooms? We can talk more at the Capitol.” Without waiting for a response, he stood up and left the dining hall, leaving Apollo and Artemis alone with their thoughts.

“He’s right. The audience will adore you.”

Apollo had almost forgotten about Decima. He quickly stood up and offered a hand to Artemis. They took it and pulled themselves to their feet, then followed as Apollo walked back to where their rooms were.

(> :D! Your writing brings me joy)

(I agree with this statement!!! These writings make my days 1000000000x better ^0^)

I know this isn’t writing, but I’ve left y’all in the basement without food for a bit too long so here have some drawings :))

TW for blood, depictions of s/h wounds, and themes of disordered eating.

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Lyric art of Heart for Honey I’m Home - Ghost and Pals

Heart, Mind, and Soul, hanging out with my plushies Artemis, Apollo, and Atlas, respectively.

You’ve been Jashed. Loser.

Lyric art of Mind for End-World Normopathy - Ghost and Pals

Lyric art of Heart for Appetite of a People-Pleaser - Ghost and Pals