#oc: Tessera

[pondering-gales-left-orb]

Nine images that capture your OC's vibe

was not tagged but saw somoneone reblogged @shalfea 's and it inspired me !

oc: Tessera Von Valancius -Ex pirate and smugglar - has a soft spot for giving people a chance which more often than not is her biggest flaw.

tagging: anyone that has an oc that wants to talk about them THIS IS YOUR CHANCEEEEE <3

[augustender]

Finally got to play Rogue Trader with one of my friends, so here’s her little portrait

Her name is Tessera and I’ve chosen for her to be a void-born with Imperial fleet background (I adore her uniform, she looks so bossy in it, lmao)

What I’ve concluded from 16 (?) hours of playtime: Abelard has a massive dad energy and I absolutely love it

[lackassera]

He gets along well with everyone, surprisingy...

Especially with the band members and the bartender, Viktor. You can often see River chatting with Viktor, and nobody knows what they're talking about because they'll stop whenever someone approaches, but whatever it is, it seems to bring out the father in Viktor~~

The only person who might know about their secret chats is Zib, but I doubt he pays much attention, you know, Zibbing...

River isn’t particularly close to Mitzi nor Wick, probably because they're a bit too "stiff"

Most of the band members have a good relationship with River, even if they aren’t exactly close. Mozzie might be the closest to him since they’re both shy

On the corner, Horatio and River really seem like a close friends, you can found them talking and laughing together, and I’m pretty sure River even knows all of Horatio’s pet rats

[dreadbirate]

Talking about your characters is hard when you can’t draw, like, “here’s my lil guy, I have 2 pieces of art I commissioned 2 years ago, and one that a friend made me for my birthday. Yes there’s lore but it’s contained mostly in my brain and in scattered prose which don’t really form a story yet”. All I can do is hope I eventually finish writing it into a novel and then I’ll have something to share

[siilvalta]

average conference call (loud warning)

[clementinechatsshit]

money, power, glory - coriolanus snow x plinth!oc

description: rhea plinth wanted one thing more than anything in this world. power. this is her story of descending into the hunger for power. the addiction to it. and if she can love through this hunger.

tw: 18+ standard hunger games shizzle, strong language, spice, toxic relationships, power hungry bitches, rhea is just as twisted as snow

a/n: hi peeps, this is my first attempt at writing anything ff related, but coryo has been in my brain since i read tbosas. i didnt want to write him ooc but rather embrace the fact that he is bat shit crazy and create a character that also embraces and encourages that side of him. i dont think ive read any ffs that have a reader/oc that is also as fucked up as snow. pls be nice

What is the purpose of the Hunger Games? 

I used to think that they were to bring justice to Panem. To punish the districts for the uprising. We’d always been taught that, and I believed it. Yet, now I see things a little differently. I see things for how they truly are. I was eighteen when I learnt the truth about the Hunger Games. How they are played, and how they are really won.

‘Rhea?’ a voice echoes from behind me. I snap my head around to see my brother leant against the frame of my bedroom door.

‘Sejanus, what have I said about knocking’, he flinches at my response, my tone harsher than intended. 

He lowers his gaze to the blazer in his grip, cowering from the hardened stare I deliver his way. ‘I’m sorry’ weak, ‘we’re going to be late’. 

I turn to fully face him, lifting my face to a content smile. My heels clack on the marble flooring as I cross the room, I pause for a second in front of him, waiting. Sejanus holds his elbow out for me to link my hand through, my gloved hand brushes the soft thread of his shirt as an avox approaches and hands me my purse. 

‘Bye, mother!’, ‘See ya, Ma’ we shout as we leave the penthouse. Sejanus never stopped calling our mother ‘ma’, juvenile if you ask me. Sometimes I think he wants to be back in the districts.

The red silk of my dress grazes the bottoms of my calves as we make our way to the car, another avox our driver. I see avox’s as the perfect company, they know their place in this society, even if they did have to learn it the hard way. They know that they have no power, they have accepted that there are consequences to their actions. They don’t talk back either. 

‘The Academy’ a demand, not a request. 

‘Please.’ Sejanus adds

The Academy. Only the elites have the privilege of attending, and only the greats go on to study at the University. We may not be Capitol born, but we belong there more than anybody else. For ten years, I have been proving my place amongst my fellow students, before I even set foot in the Capitol, I knew I am simply better than them all.

I entered first. Shoulders back, chin up. Make them stare. The first thing I know about power. If you can’t command a room, you have none. I felt the eyes on me as I strode in, then I heard the whispers. I had power, you see, I have their attention when I give them none. I glance around the room attempting to find someone worth a morsel of my time, when I hear his voice.

‘Rhea Plinth’, that is a voice I would never tire of hearing.

‘Coriolanus Snow’ I acknowledge him, giving him a once over. The pinstripes of his dress shirt, dated, yet he made it look like an arising trend in the Capitol. A rose tucked into the formal vest. He was handsome indeed, a shame about the mismatched tesserae buttons. I placed my hand into his outstretched palm, watching him raise it to his lips as he leant down and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it in greeting. 

‘Rhea, can you just get it over and done with, Snow won the Plinth Prize, didn’t he?’ the bratty whine of Arachne Crane interrupted.

‘I can’t confirm anything’, power, ‘however, I can say things will get interesting this year.’ my voice almost sultry as I spoke directly to Coriolanus, not even bothering to turn to Arachne. 

‘Now, Coriolanus, walk with me?’ a huff sounds from beside us as we turn to leave the hall. 

‘Won’t people suspect something?’ I feel his breath on my neck as he hunches down to be level with my ear.

‘They’ll just assume I’m telling you about the prize’, I remain facing ahead, the doors to the adjoining hallway open. A rare smile hooks at the corners of my mouth as we round the corner, a pillar shielding us from the curious eyes of anyone passing. 

‘Ah yes, Miss Plinth doing her duty as the liaison for the prestigious Plinth family.’ His mocking tone forces my eyes to roll, as we slowly step backwards. I may be the representative of the Plinth family for all intents and purposes, but with Coriolanus, I don’t have to be. See, I know who he really is, I know that his family has no money, I’ve seen the apartment they live in. Deep down, I know that all he sees in me is District, but I am the one thing that stands between him and the power he craves. That’s why we have this arrangement. I secure his future in the Capitol, and he makes sure that no one will ever see me as district again. 

I’m drawn from my thoughts as my skin hits the cold wall behind me, a hand snaking its way around my waist. A hooked finger nudges my chin, lifting my gaze to meet the piercing blue eyes looking down at me. The intensity of his stare is almost intimidating. His grip changes as he strokes a fallen piece of hair behind my ear. 

‘You look pretty like this,’ he murmurs, leaning in. His lips graze mine and I feel him inhale. Like he’s breathing in my surrender. I crash my lips against his, our noses bumping against each other, but neither of us minding. His lips are rough against mine, more aggressive. You look pretty like this. I look pretty when you think you have control over me.

I reach my hands around his neck, tangling my fingers into the blond curls. I tug once, he groans, I tug again. Who’s in control now, Coryo. He squeezes my waist and I sigh into the kiss. Our whole exchange is a power play. His tongue slips into my mouth as he reaches his hand lower, and lower. Maybe I could give in this once.

The echo of someone clearing their throat shatters the tension between us. Coriolanus takes a few instinctive steps back as I swing my head around to look at who dared interrupt us. 

Dean Casca Highbottom.

‘Mr Snow, Miss Plinth. I assume you are heading into the hall to hear the announcement?’ He looked disgusted, disappointed. 

‘Yes, of course, Dean Highbottom.’ Coriolanus responded instantly, leaving me standing with the Dean, marching back into the grand hall, his hands reaching up to fix his hair

‘They can’t make the announcement without me, Casca. You know that,’ I give him a knowing look before following Coriolanus’ lead. I look back over my shoulder to see the Dean opening a vial and consuming the contents. 

I found Coriolanus standing with my brother and another girl from our class, Dovecote, Clemensia I believe. I give her a slight nod as a hello, not wanting to waste my breath on her. ‘Hello Sejanus, Coriolanus.’ glancing up at the boys, flashing a quick smirk at them.

‘Rhea, where were you?’ Sejanus queries, his brows furrowed, ‘you’re meant to be naming the winner.’ 

‘Brother mine, you worry too much. Besides, there's been a slight change in plan.’ This is power. Knowledge. Money. 

‘Can everyone take their seats,’ the instructions come from one of the teachers at the Academy.

I leave the group and make my way up to the podium, passing Dean Highbottom on the way. The room silences as I ascend the stairs. As I glance down to the crowd, I catch Coriolanus’ eye, he looks hopeful. He needs this prize. To anyone else, it’s about the title. To him, this is everything. 

‘My father, Strabo Plinth, has been gracious enough, over the years, to provide incentive to those at the Academy in the form of the Plinth Prize. An award bestowed upon the student who excels in every aspect of their education. An honour for any student who wins it.’ my voice strong, conductive, they are hanging on my every word. Power. I see Arachne glare over at the blond boy, they all think they know. They all think he has won. ‘This year, we want to make things harder, create more of a challenge. This year, myself and my mentor, Dr. Ghaul, want you. The top twenty-four. The elite. To become mentors yourselves.’ slight muttering begins to spread around the room. ‘This reaping day, you will be assigned tributes, you will guide them, make spectacles of them, and one of you. You will create a victor.’ 

The voices become louder, anger begins to bubble. Arachne is already complaining, Sejanus looks horrified. But Coriolanus, he is furious. And me, a large grin spreads its way across my face.

Now this. This is power.

[peakyswritings]

The Danger We Come From

CHAPTER I

A Peaky Blinders x Hunger Games crossover

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Nina Ferrante

Summary: during the 72nd edition of the Hunger Games, one year after her victory, Nina becomes a mentor. But the events of the previous edition are still imprinted in her mind.

Warnings: mentions of violence and murder, no proofreading, I’m writing this for fun.

A/N: here’s the first chapter of this crossover! If you haven’t read it yet, I recommend you to catch up with Nina’s backstory before reading this. More information is given in the masterlist I’ve linked below. Also, there’s a brief reference to @justrainandcoffee ’ OC, Rose.

Nina Ferrante is the OC from my Tommy Shelby x OC series Heart, Body and Soul (set in canon times).

AU MASTERLIST

71st edition of the Hunger Games - Reaping Day

After tying the end of her braid with a white ribbon, Nina took one last look in the mirror to make sure her appearance was neat enough. The clothes she had chosen for the occasion were a bit too lose for her scrawny frame, but she had found a safety pin to hold the grey skirt up, and the white shirt was clean and undamaged. It wasn’t that bad, overall.

Fear felt like a vice grip on her stomach as she tried to muster up the courage to head to the kitchen, convincing herself that the sooner she got to the Justice Building, the sooner it would end. But the thing was - it wouldn’t end. Nina could feel it in her bones, she was sure of it as she was sure of her own name. She had asked for too many tesserae for the odds to be in her favour one last time.

When she entered the room, her father was sitting at the table, staring at an indefinite point ahead of him. Her mother and brothers were probably already waiting outside, like every year. Just like her, they seemed eager to get it over with, like one would with the extraction of an aching tooth.

“I’m ready,” she murmured, catching her dad’s attention. Ready. It sounded almost funny, in that situation.

He got up from the chair, giving her the sad, forced smile of a man who knew his daughter was up for a slaughter, but tried to keep it together for everybody’s sake. “It’s the last year,” he murmured, reaching his hand out to tenderly caress her cheek. “You can be lucky once again.”

Those words struck a chord in Nina, awakening the sleeping rage she fought so hard to keep at bay. She could’ve been lucky, if she hadn’t been forced to take the burden of not only one, but two families on her shoulders, without anyone doing a damn thing about it.

“It’s time to go,” she simply said, taking a step back.

Her father’s hand fell by his side, and a flicker of pain shone in his eyes for a second. He opened his mouth to say something, but words failed him right away, causing him to give up before even starting to speak. Not surprised by that silence, Nina nodded to herself and turned around to walk to the door, but she was soon stopped by her dad’s voice.

“Nina,” he called her, making her turn around. His gaze hesitantly found hers, and it took him a moment to begin again. “How many times is your name in the reaping bowl?”

She faltered at his question, and she wondered if it’d be of any use to tell him the truth now. It didn’t take her long for concluding that it wouldn’t. What was done was done, and it wasn’t like he didn’t already knew the truth. He just pretended to be oblivious to it, just like everybody else.

“It doesn’t matter,” she shook her head, walking out the door.

The banners of the Capitol solemnly hanged off the walls of the Justice Building, their bright red sharply contrasting with the grey stones. The expensive fabric seemed almost ridiculous in that picture of poverty and desolation. Those banners didn’t belong there.

Nina didn’t bat an eye as the peacekeeper prickled her finger to confirm her identity. After six years, she had kind of gotten used to it. The same couldn’t be said for Agnese, her cousin, who still flinched when the needle pierced her skin. When Agnese’s sisters got identified as well, the small group separated, with Nina and Agnese taking their places in the front rows, and the other two with the younger girls. On the stage in front of them stood the two reaping bowls, filled to the top with names. Behind them, the escort sent by the Capitol - what was her name again? -, the mayor and district 9’s only victor, Alfie Solomons. When the mayor stepped forward, the soft buzz of voices died down, and the square fell silent. Agnese grabbed Nina’s hand and held it tightly, giving her an encouraging look. She really thought that both of them would make it.

As the mayor recited the history of Panem, Nina’s mind started wandering, searching for something else to focus on. She had heard it so many times that she would be able to recite it by heart, if asked to. She needed to get out of there, if just for a moment, even if just with her head, but the only thing she could think about was what would happen if the escort called her name. The escort. The woman’s intricate hairstyle caught her eye, offering her brain some sort of escape. Lime green was an interesting choice of colour. It had to be a wig. There was no way that one person could have that much hair. How did it even manage to stay up like that?

Her mind chased thought after thought, capturing the most trivial details and transforming them into the object of deep reflection, until the escort’s high-pitched voice snapped her out of that sort of trance. She hadn’t even noticed that she had stepped forward, taking the mayor’s place.

“Now it’s time for us to find out who will have the honour to represent district 9 in the 71st edition of the Hunger Games,” she smiled, making her way toward one of the bowls. “As usual, ladies first…”

She’d call her name. She knew it.

Nina held her breath as the escort grabbed one of the white cards, her struggling with opening it with her long nails only prolonging the painful wait.

There was her name on that card. She could feel it. She would be reaped. She would die.

If the square had been silent before, now one could almost hear the fluttering of a fly’s wings. Time seemed to stand still while the woman finally opened the card, taking her time before announcing the female tribute.

“Nina Ferrante.”

Nina’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach, and for a moment she hoped it had only been a trick of her imagination. But it wasn’t. The way her cousin turned to look at her, like the other people who knew her, told her that all of that was very much real. Her ears rang as she made her way toward the stage, a strange feeling of numbness pervading her completely. A few peacekeepers boarded her to make sure she wouldn’t run away. But running away was the last thing on her mind while she mechanically walked in the empty corridor that lead to the stage, as if she wasn’t fully aware of what was happening. However, that sort of disconnection didn’t prevent her from yanking her arm free from one of the peacekeepers’ grip when she felt his hand wrap around it, glaring at him. If she had to walk to her death, she’d walk on her own.

“Come, dear,” the escort gently put a hand behind her shoulder once she stepped on the stage, guiding her to the center.

Nina slowly started to register what was happening around her, to her, when she met Alfie Solomons’s unreadable gaze, and when the crowd’s pitiful look started to pierce through her. It angered her, the way they were looking at her. As if she had absolutely no chance.

“And for the boy…” the woman reached the other bowl, catching her attention once again. She opened the card, this time more easily. “Oliver Cropper.”

Oliver Cropper. She knew that boy. They were in the same class, before he dropped out of school to help his family. They even say next to each other, from time to time. As far as she could remember, he was a nice kid, a bit lonely and broody, but kind. The tall, lanky boy stepped on the stage, in his dark eyes the same look she had until a couple of minutes ago.

“Our tributes from district 9,” the escort proclaimed, a big smile plastered on her face. “Happy Hunger Games. And may the odds be ever in your favour.”

72nd edition of the Hunger Games - Reaping Day

Exactly one year had passed since Nina’s reaping. Against all expectations, she was still there, alive. Even her family couldn’t believe it when she was proclaimed victor.

In her house in the Victor’s Village, the life she had left behind felt as distant as ever. She didn’t have to ask for tesserae to support her family, she didn’t have to put up with Salvatore’s addiction, or Pietro’s anger, or her mother’s apathy, or her father’s silence. They had all chosen to keep on living in the family home, chained to the memory of a time when they were still whole. Nina, on the other hand, had closed the door on it. Or so she told herself.

She was a mentor, now. After the reaping, she would head to Capitol City once again, but with an entirely different role. Although she hated the idea of going back to that place, she felt somehow obliged to. There was only one victor besides her in district 9, after all, and those kids needed all the advice they could get. It didn’t feel right to go on with her life without caring about what happened to them.

72 years. That shit had been going on for 72 years, and no one had ever done anything to stop it. People watched their children be sent to the slaughter without batting an eye, simply accepting the way things were. What was it that made them so afraid to act? The worst was already happening, right in front of their eyes.

There had to be a way to stop it. It was a nagging thought, one that had been tormenting her for as long as she could remember. She couldn’t bring herself to believe that things had to stay like that forever. There had to be a way to change them.

The square in front of the Justice Building was just starting to fill up when Nina arrived. Hundreds of kids, waiting for two of them to be possibly sent to their deaths, hoping the selected cards wouldn’t bear their name. It felt strange, not to be part of it anymore. Her two younger cousins were, though, and she couldn’t ignore that the possibility of one of them being reaped was not so distant as she thought. It was a terrifying prospect, one she never allowed herself to dwell on, for the consequences would be devastating.

“Hello, kid,” a familiar voice pulled her from her brooding. She was so deep in thought she hadn’t noticed that Alfie had joined her on the stage.

“Alfie.”

They stood there in silence for a while, in an unspoken agreement that there wasn’t much to say, in that situation. However, Nina didn’t fail to notice the scowl on his face, and couldn’t be silent about it. “I see you’re in a good mood, as usual.”

“No reason to be in a good mood.”

“Right,” she nodded. After a moment of pause, feeling the need to lighten the mood in some way, Nina started speaking again. “Well…” she raised her eyebrows, pondering her next words. “You do have one,” she teased him, holding back a mischievous grin. The glare he sent her way told her he knew all to well what she was referring to. Who she was referring to. And he was probably fed up with her teasing already.

“Just kidding,” she raised her hands in defeat.

Their brief exchange was stopped by the mayor, who stepped forward to officially start the reaping. The whole process went by faster than Nina remembered, and she figured time is perceived in a very different way when you’re not the one risking your life. Much to her relief, none of her cousins were reaped. The names of the 72nd Hunger Games’ tributes were Nora and Lucas.

The boy, Lucas, was thirteen, and Nora was eighteen. Her reaping had been bad luck, just like Nina’s. She looked so young that it felt impossible that they were almost the same age, and Nina wondered, did she look that young too the day of her reaping?

From the reaping on, everything happened in a haze, and before Nina could realise it, they were all sitting in the luxurious train taking them to Capitol City. Elle, the escort, took it upon herself to enumerate all the wonderful things they would see at the Capitol, all the comforts they would be provided with during their stay, the food they would get to eat, but the kids were too busy trying not to panic to even hear a word she was saying.

“Elle,” Nina interrupted her with a scolding tone. “I think it’s enough.”

Silence fell in the wagon, and for a few minutes no one said a thing, gathering their thoughts before starting to talk about more serious matter. Nina felt a pair of eyes on her, and it didn’t take her long to notice that Nora was looking at the ugly scar that crossed the left side of her face, from the tip of her eyebrow to the centre of her cheek. Although the girl was trying to be subtle with it, she wasn’t really discreet. Nina wasn’t offended, though, nor did she feel uneasy. She was aware it was almost impossible not to let the eye fall on it, especially for a young girl.

“Alright,” Nina suddenly spoke, deciding they had wasted enough time already. “First rule, use your brains. They’re the biggest weapon you can have in the Arena.”

“My biggest weapon is my strength.” Lucas interrupted her, causing her to turn to look at him. She knew he hadn’t done it out of defiance, but out of eagerness to talk about the things he considered most important.

“I’m strong,” he added. “I work the fields with my dad.”

“You work the fields,” Nina repeated, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah.”

“The kids from the Career districts are trained in Academies. Chances are, if one of them crosses your path - you’re dead, no matter how strong you are.”

Alfie cleared his throat, probably signalling her that she was being a bit too harsh, but she ignored him.

“It’s a good thing to be strong,” she continued, softening her tone a bit. “It’s an advantage. But even your strength won’t be enough to save you if you don’t know how to use your head. The Arena is tricky. It’s not just the tributes that you need to worry about. It’s the plants, the berries, the mutts, even the fucking water. You have to know what to look out for.”

Lucas nodded, leaning back in his seat as he listened attentively to Nina’s words.

“Watch, observe, take as much as you can. You know your strengths, so work on your weaknesses,” she concluded, shifting her gaze between Lucas and Nora.

She didn’t want to seem mean, or sour, but she knew that being too soft wouldn’t help those kids. They didn’t need someone to sugarcoat the truth, they needed to know what to expect if they wanted to have a chance to get out of the Arena alive. And Nina would do anything in her power to help them. It was her job, now. She couldn’t fail them.

NEXT CHAPTER

@call-sign-shark @justrainandcoffee @evita-shelby @emotionalcadaver

[avoxrising]

Capital Nights ~ Prologue

A Finnick x OC series on Wattpad (link)

Note: I’m only posting the Prologue on Tumblr as the rest of the chapters are super long. Chapter 1 is already up on my Wattpad and the rest of the story will be posted there as well.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

“Brooke Harper”

All eyes were on me as I made my way to the reaping stage. District 4’s escort, Apple Rothenberger, had just plucked me from the bowl of thousands of names.

Brave face. It’s game time.

Although I had been training for years, I didn’t expect to go into the games until I would volunteer at 17. Being reaped at 15 was definitely not the plan but my name was in the bowl a few too many times due to taking out tesserae.

“I volunteer as tribute,” a male shouts.

Crey Ballast, a junior at the academy, makes his way to the stage. He’s short but bulky and was selected to volunteer this year at age 17. We knew of each other but had never interacted.

“Please give a warm welcome to our tributes for the 64th annual Hunger Games!” Apple chimes. The crowd cheers as we shake hands and make our exit.

[lemongogo]

a random OC ask for you (for zaihala): what is your OC's favorite memory?

also: if they were dropped in a random city for a day with a pouch full of gold/relevant currency and no obligations whatsoever, what would they be doing?

aah omg this is so sweet ehehe, thank you for the qs :3c

i like to imagine that zaihala is an avid stonemason and mosaicist .. i think she is enraptured by the idea of taking something so resilient in nature and molding it under the guide of mallet and chisel . she's a humanist intrigued by the natural world, by geology.. by the incredible craftsmanship that goes into such a trade .

if she were to be dropped into some random city with the freedom of both time and money, i think you could find her in the market , sourcing materials or tesserae she couldnt otherwise acquire at her local workshop. . glass, shells, ceramics etc from vendors or acquainting herself with quarry tradesmen in order 2 procure the stone that best fits her vision.its an obsession..u literally have to pull her away or she'll be there all day

as for her FAVORITE MEMORY!!! omg.. i keep picturing her as this fresh face in baldurs gate, having just moved there on her own , sworn to independence but feeling like maybee she made a mistake. . maybe she was too impulsive, chasing her desire to pursue stonework on a whim, not having thought abt the consequences or the finances or what have u .. but she takes the chance to meet up with some local artists on an outing just outside the city .and its just sooo .. reaffirming to her in that moment. to be surrounded by people who are drunk on wine & laughter and to see the sprawling city just before her as the sun is setting..and the wind is warm..gentle...and it leaves her feeling so content..like a feeling of peace that swells up within her and lets her know tht she made the right choice. that it will be OKAYYU!!!!!!!!!! i think that's gotta be in one of her top ten.. perhaps.

[pondering-gales-left-orb]

i finally got the toybox mod to work woooooooo!!!

hello front facing Rogue trader Tessera

we are in act 5 we haven't slept in 5 years we keep getting beat up by robots we might have to kill the inquisitor and we had to witness and fight 3 wretched versions of ourselves, one of them was besties with Argenta.. blegh

yeah safe to say Tessera is not having a good time but im having a blast though sorry girl

[babiesdreams]

The Hunger Games Au.

This is gonna be a serie, there would be multiple idols throught the story. It's a first person fic and the main character is an OC. This is a project that means a lot to me since I'm a big fan of the hunger games myself, please be kind and enjoy <3

WARNINGS: There are obviously mentions of blood, kills, and death. For it to be easier for you to read, if you're sensible to tis topics DO NOT READ THE RED PARTS.

Chapter One: The Reaping

I wake up with a loud mooing sound, my eyebrows frown trying hard to keep my eyes shut, to sleep further. I blink repeatedly until my eyes get used to the bright light that enters inside the barn. I feel the soft touch of the cow’s fur against my skin, it’s like a soft pillow, one of those that only exists in the Capitol. “Did you sleep well Lola?” She’s a slow light brown and white cow, with pink ears and nose, and big eyelashes. She answers with another moo, I chuckle. “You’re the cutest one you know?” I tell her while I pat her head. 

“Taura!” I hear Antonio yelling my name in the distance. “Are you awake yet?” He asks from the barn’s door. “I’m awake old man” I shout back with a smile. He opens the door and looks at me, laying on the floor, hair probably still messy and full of straw. Still patting Lola’s head instead of getting ready for work. “We have a lot to do today. The Capitol needs a lot of meat for their parties” I look at him with contained anger. “Oh they love to celebrate death” I comment to myself, referring to the animals we’ll have to kill because of them. My eyes lock of the floor.

“I told you not to get attached to them. They’re animals Taura, they have to die eventually” I look directly into Lola’s eyes. “I know” My words get invaded with a sudden dark tone. Toni sighs while he helps himself sit on a bundle of hay.

“You know I'd do it if I could, but my hands are weak. We are just like them, we have to die eventually. And I feel like my expiration day is near, kid” I look at him with a lifted brow. “You still have a lot to live, Toni” I say with a smile. He makes old man’s sounds while he gets out of the barn. 

I get up and tidy my overall, getting all the dirt off it. A long sigh escapes my lips, I’m definitely tired of this routine. The Capitol is always demanding things from the districts, as if we had anything to give at all. They get to eat meat and nice bread loafs, while all we can ever taste are dry cereal that sentences us to death. I put on my gloves and go to the killing building. Since I got into Toni’s farm, I’ve called it that way, though he insisted on calling it a slaughterhouse. 

I wish I could remember how my life was when my mother was alive, so I’d have something to compare my current life with, but truth is I only remember her face, and it’s just a blurry memory. I grab the big knife and crack my neck and back bones. As nice as it could seem to sleep over bundles of hay, it really messes with your spine. Last winter I had to stay lying down because of the pain. It almost cost both of our lives. Our story was a common one in 10. I was a helpless toddler, an orphan who would’ve died starving in the streets if it weren’t for him. And Toni, he was an old man who needed tesserae to survive. We helped each other. He taught me how to work, to not starve once I reach adulthood. In exchange, I risk my life every year, increasing the chances to be reaped for the hunger games.

I take deep breaths to prepare myself. The helpless goat is tied to a table, my eyes fixed on the floor, trying not to look at its face. It’s always harder when you look into their eyes. With one hand I hold its body, pinning it to the wooden material. With the other I make an incision over its neckline. Blood squirts onto my face. It showers me with death. My hands are red, full of guilt. With my fingers I close its eyes and whisper “I’m sorry” I knew the goat was old, probably sick, but it never feels right to take life out of another living creature. I chop its head off and start preparing the meat to be sent. The Capitol was only interested in high quality meat, so the head, neck and legs usually stayed in the district, as part of the black market. I get the gloves off, my hands are covered in blood under them, it probably dripped down my arms long ago, it’s almost dry. “Did you finish?” Toni asks from behind me, I simply nod.

“We still got a couple of pigs and a cow to go” He announces. My whole body react inmediately, turning to face him. Horror takes over me. “A cow?” I ask in shock. “It’s what they requested, Taura” Tears fill my eyes once I realize what he really means. It will be Lola, she’s the oldest. “Right” I whisper, looking down. “I can ask the neighbor to do it if you can't.” Tears fall down my cheeks, imagining the rough hands of Tim slaying Lola. I shake my head “I want to make sure it’s fast” He nods in agreement. “I’ll be feeding the sheeps if you need me” I nod and put the gloves back on. The neighbor, Tim, usually ties our animals to the tables. He’s strong, rude and loud, I’ve seen him carry full grown cows over his shoulders. Victor’s meat, that's what we call it. 

“I heard you’re gonna kill the cow” He groans while lifting the struggling pig. “Yeah” I mumble. “Did you name this one too?” I sigh, I’m tired of the same old speech. Since he taught me how to kill, he hasn’t shut up about getting attached to the animals. “I sleep with them, Tim. I talk to them more than I talk to humans” He chuckles, his voice is deep as always, his tone cocky and braggy. “Don’t say that kid. People might get the wrong impression” 

I lift the knife in a threatening gesture, then stab the pig that was lying on the other table. A loud high pitched scream fills the room. He groans, dropping the pig on the bloody table where the goat was before. “I’ll go get the cow” He mutters but I stop him with my hand. “I’ll bring her after. Go back to your farm” He leaves, with a mouthful of protests. 

The sun sets right before I finish preparing all the meat for the delivery. Flies are invading every corner of the building, buzzing beside my ear, landing over my bloody skin. I try to scare them away with hand movements, but they always come back. They’re addicted to the smell. The smell of death. I don’t clean myself up. It’s pointless. A cow like Lola has so much blood that I could take two full baths on it. She’s waiting for me when I open the door to the barn. Tears start falling down my cheeks once again. Every time reality hits it’s like the world is about to collapse and I can’t escape. 

She walks towards the door and rubs her face against my body, I pat her as usual. Just when I’m about to lead her to the killing building I hear him. He’s by the lake. Mark, Tim’s son. Tim had always tried to teach him how to be a good farmer, but he was sick. An artist to the bone. The worst of the illnesses. He liked to escape to the lake every night to sing his ballads. Sometimes I sang along with him. The animals loved the sound of his soothing voice, it calmed them. I just liked the feeling of his company. We were several feet apart, but I could feel him close to my heart.

“What a lovely song for a farewell” I muttered to myself, well maybe to Lola. It might be weird, but sometimes I could feel she understood what I was telling her. The melody of the song was melancholic. The words, depressing. Something about love dying. I take advantage of his calming melody to kill Lola as fast as I can. 

I wake up after a couple hours of sleep. I stayed up all night preparing Lola’s meat to be sent away. Today is the reaping, which means every kid from the district will dress up as if they weren’t miserable. Some will cry. Two will be selected to a certain death and the rest will be able to breathe normally again. Continue with their miserable lives. 

The tears I cried last night have dried, leaving itchiness on my skin. I get up fast and wash my face with the remaining water from last night’s bath. There’s still a bit of blood turning it red. “I have something prepared for you” Toni says from behind me. I take my bandana off and dry my face with it. When I turn around he’s holding a beautiful white dress. It looks old but it’s so well tailored that it makes me frown. “Where did you get that?” I ask in disbelief. “It was my wife’s wedding dress. I have paid the lady that lives two streets away to clean it up”

“Capri? But why did you do this?” He smiles and hands me the dress. “You can’t go to the reaping wearing my old overalls. You deserve to be like the rest of the kids” I shake my head “I can't toni. I shouldn't…”

“Kid, she'd loved to have a daughter like you. I'm sure she would have done this years ago if she was still alive. C'mon try it on” He could be really persuasive when he wanted. “Okay” I finally agree. “But I'll wear my bandana. You know I'm not me without it” he nods. “Yeah yeah of course” 

The dress fits me to perfection. It's simple and not too tight but it almost looked like it was made for me. When I walk into the house Toni stands up and takes a look at me. I can see tears forming in his eyes. “Try not to get chosen” he says, sobbing. “If I'm chosen, Tim will take care of you” I assure him.

“And depend on that lazy kid of his. No lord” he chuckles at his own joke and I do too. “You should get used to the idea that one day I'll be picked” I say, bringing a dark mood back to the conversation. “You haven't been picked yet. In a couple of years you won't be a part of the reaping”

“Toni” I say with a sigh. “I've picked tesserae since I was 12 for you and me. And before mark was 12 I asked for three extras. My name's there more times than I could count” he paused for a second and looks at me with a tilted expression. “What are you implying?” I can sense fear in his voice as if he could know what my plan was. 

“I'm implying that it's not fair for kids who starve themselves just to avoid getting their name in there to be selected anyway and die” he sighs and turns away from me. “You're talking about Laura”

Somehow hearing her name makes me even more angry. “Yeah, I'm talking about Laura. And I'm also talking about Chris, Aurora, I'm talking about all of them” his eyes feel like knives stabbing mine. “So what are you gonna do?” I can see tears in his eyes.

“I can't live with this Toni. How many deaths are gonna live in my conscience?” As my voice gets louder, my eyes get filled with tears. “What the hell you mean Taura?” 

“I saw Lola be born. I've raised her. She was like a sister. And I had to fucking kill her for them. I can't- I can't get the smell of her blood off my nose. I can't get the images out of my head. I can't live like this. I just can't” he tilts his head out of desperation. “They're animals”

“And so are we” I reply fastly. “I want things to change Toni. I can only do that going to the games” his eyes close, letting the tears flow down his cheeks “You're gonna volunteer” i walk closer to him and grab his hands. “This way I can save a child too” he looks like he's trying not to hear me. “Tim will take care of you Toni. He owes it to us” 

“I don't care about that. I don't want you to die. You are like a daughter to me Taura” Tears fill my eyes, making everything blurry. “I'll always be with you. My soul will remain in the barn, sleeping every night. I'll never leave your side Toni. But I've got to do this”

“When did you decide?” His question makes me sigh. “Did you decide last night? Was it because of the cow?” Every word he says makes me feel more and more misunderstood. “I decided last year. Because of Laura” his eyes keep looking into mine, searching for any sign of weakness. “You know how much I cared about her. And in the reaping, I just couldn't… move. I felt helpless. And the way she died. It's so unfair” Toni walks away from me for a few seconds. 

“Do what you gotta do. But I won't watch you kill yourself like that” he walks outside the house, probably to avoid crying in my presence. I never quite understood the urge of men to hide their emotions like it’s the worst thing to feel something. It reminded me about the games. Everything in Panem seems to be related to them. The way the Capitol forced families to keep quiet while their children were brutally murdered was a new kind of oppression. An emotional one.I’m sure Toni would’ve taken any physical torture without crying a single tear. But somehow a child that was not entirely his, hurted more than that. They knew what children meant to society. This is their twisted way of saying We control you.

I walk towards the lake in a desperate attempt to feel something nice. As if I was trying to convince myself not to volunteer. I look at my reflection. It’s not usual for us to look at ourselves really, so I don’t quite recognize me at first. My fingers brush over the water, twirling my reflection. I’m mesmerized by the way the water flows, and then it hits. I see Carina’s face, screaming and crying for help. She died on the second day of the games. She had managed to keep herself hidden in the forest, until the girl from 1 saw her. They’re trained to kill and I get that, but she made her suffer every second of it. That girl had no humanity left on herself.

I put myself together after a few seconds and stand, decided to end all this. I’m the last one to arrive at the town hall square. The guards prick my finger with the needle to get my name on the system. My mind controls my body to stand right on the girls’ side. The capitol’s host starts speaking. Some nonsense I don’t even care about actually listening to. “Let’s begin the reaping. And as always. May the odds be ever in your favor” 

There’s a loud silence, invading the streets. “Are there any volunteers?” I lift my hand in the air, standing out from the crowd. The rest of the girls move, making a path for me to go up the stage. I walk towards the stage, until I'm standing next to the man announcing the reaping. "What's your name dear?" He asks with a smile. "Taura" I answer. "I'm Taura" "well Samantha you have nothing to fear, you have a 24.60 percent chance of survival, as usual may the odds be ever in your favor" the man smiles as the crowd stays silent, shocked at my decision. 

"Now let's reap the male tribute" he says, taking a piece of paper from the big bowl. "Mark lee" he calls out loudly. The boys around him step away. I look shocked at the crowd, thinking to myself this is not real. This must be a dream. Mark walks slowly, eyes fixed on mine, looking for answers I suppose. Every step he takes, makes it feel more and more real. My breaths struggle, getting messy and fast. 

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Masterlist

[lackassera]

If asked about how he got his ear injury, how would he respond?

River will probably be too embarrassed to talk about it when he's a child, He'll just says that it's nothing and covers his ear. But after a while, he started to not care that much and instead cherish it as a memento of his childhood with Rocky and Freckle since they haven't meet again after the incident.

[conscriptur]

this morning i am thinking about my district eight ocs. thinking about how districr eight is the poorest district with the lowest population. thinking about how tessera is still vital for the families in district eight but it does not lead to the extreme amount of times a name will be put in like it does in district twelve. they have such a low population of children that it is becoming harder to have a pool of children for the reaping. when cecelia won, president snow made her become the face of what a family should be, forced to play the role of a mother even though come time for her children’s reaping they were twice as likely to be reaped—and being in district eight with the low population, doubled that. there was a slight increase in birth rates after cecelia announced her pregnancy; however, the idea of what president snow wanted fell through. district eight was the most rebellious and planned to make their own families how they wanted, mainly without children. It was tough for them anyways already working at all hours there was no time for adults to think about having children. then the idea of having children only for them to go to school and work after to bring in a little bit more money. the cons outweighed the pros.

[dhampiravidi]

hunger games OC

template adopted from here!

Name: Hestia Black Age: 14 at the time of winning, 19 by The Hunger Games. Gender: Cis Female District: 6

Appearance: Hestia is a 5'4" (162.56 cm) woman who engages in regular physical activity. While living in District 6, she had a decent diet, one which only improved once she became a Victor, so she was never malnourished. She's lightly toned and has a relatively pale complexion. Prior to the rebellion, her dark hair is pulled back into a rough updo. During the rebellion, she adopts a pixie cut. Hestia has striking grey eyes, which appear to glow in the light. Personality: Considering her environment, Hestia's fairly upbeat around her loved ones. She shows this typically by asking lots of questions, as she's a naturally curious person. Even at her job, which is an apprenticeship in transportation management, she always wants to know exactly how things work and why people think the way they do. When people open up to her, she tends to come up with little quips, in an attempt to brighten the conversation. She just really likes making friends, since she grew up being looked at with suspicion by those in her District. However, her mother taught her to have a cautious side, since (obviously) the world is a dangerous place, and the Capitol is always watching. History: Hestia was born as one of many human subjects created by Project Vesta, a Capitol experiment that sought to make enhanced humanoid Muttations. The experiment was deemed a costly failure, as nearly all the subjects had some unwanted trait. Hestia's caretaker convinced the lead scientists that ordinary Hestia could be taken to a faraway District (6) and utilized as a spy (as opposed to being "terminated"). At 12, Hestia discovered that she could copy any physical movement and/or skill she observed. However, if she became terribly frightened, she'd go into a feral state and forget all the skills she'd "learned". This helped her win the 69th Hunger Games, though the reveal of her feral side (culminating in a few violent scenes) made some raise an eyebrow. Thankfully for her, the tesserae that she won for her District charmed her fellow citizens into accepting her; prior to that, they distrusted her due to her obvious outsider status (as she mysteriously arrived from the Capitol a decade before). Still, Hestia mostly spends time with just her mom and the other District 6 victor, a 24-year-old male named Aren Lorry who is addicted to morphling. Skills: she's good with numbers, especially quick addition Token: a book her mom used to read to her as a kid Interview Angle: sweet and dumb Score: 2 (she painted rather than show her real ability)

[derkdirt]

2024 Tessera Fanart

Fanart of Rayne Pluvias' OC Tessera. I did it pretty freehanded so its messy but I wanted to make something with em.

Posted using PostyBirb

[mistresskittycat40]

My Tessera #oc #bdsm