(OOC: I’m really sorry that I haven’t been active for the Hunger Games AU, guys.
I’ve since contacted Jett’s RPer just a few moments ago about what she can have Heracles do or how he can act under her, rather minor, control as I don’t think I’ll be active enough to do so myself in the upcoming week or so. So far, she’s made him act pretty well given the situations they’ve experienced for themselves and she’s willing to have him a little active in whatever ongoing roleplay she may be put in in the near future regarding the AU.
But, I have no problem with him being killed off once another party reaches the desert oasis whenever they do; he’ll more than likely act on the offensive if he’s attacked first, so him going down is possible enough?
Anyway, I apologize again! I really wanted to do this AU with everyone, but as things look now, it doesn’t seem like I’ll get much of a chance.
Just don’t make Heracles die in a really lame way, okay? Be nice to my strong baby. Let him die with some sort of honor. <3
I’ll talk and RP with you all again once I finally start feeling better.
Hugs and kisses, guys. Hope I get over being sick really soon.)
“…An alliance should be in my best interests with the Games so soon to start… I wonder if I could even form a team so late into it all now… Perhaps he’d be interested in such a thing… I suspect he and I would be complementary to each other with such similar fighting styles and our skill ranges… Maybe even that other one as well… Curious…”
“Maybe I’m that ‘he’ you’re spoutin’ ‘bout, by chance?” The youth laughed softly as he approached the other. The man was a brick wall of a human being and would serve as a great partner, Jett thought. The younger was a powerhouse and this man… He was an absolute tank. “C’mon - how ‘bout’t? Form’a li’l alliance? Y’an’ I?”
“…In fact… You were…” He turned to face Jett, admiring his physique for a moment. He was strong, able-bodied… Definitely a good choice to bump up his singular fighting force to a duet of sorts. His aim, his speed, and most definitely his strength would be wonderful assets. “…I’d be happy to be in an alliance with you… Until the last two stand, you and I are now a team, is that right..?” Heracles held out his hand, an attempt at a friendly smile visible on his commonly overly indifferent expression.
“Aye, that’s right! We’ll work t’gether ‘till we have ta’ face each other’f’t comes down ta’ it!” Jett clamped his hand over Heracles’, giving it a few firm shakes with his smile ever-growing. An alliance, as commonly shown in past Games, was usually a good plan to start out with. They broke rather quickly when the tensions grew further on, but that was to be expected. It was a dog-eat-dog sort of competition. Only one winner. No team would last, and that was expected. Still though, anything to better his chances was definitely appreciated so far.
“…That’s right… I’ll be happy to be your teammate… What happens, happens, and we will just have to look forward to whatever outcome might makes its way to us during these times, am I right..?” Heracles was looking fondly unto Jett, a sort of protective bond forming even now, so prematurely into their alliance. He enjoyed the man and his more positive demeanor, even in the face of failure with the few weapons he discovered to be far from his forte; Jett was a man of progress and trial-and-error. Heracles, as a man so used to learning before even trying, could respect that.
“…Perhaps we should train together for the remainder..? Learn what makes each other tick… Our weaknesses and strengths both so that we may make up for what the other lacks… How does that sound, my friend..?”
He bristled at the implication that he used his looks to get out of things. He wished he was as devious as that. Maybe he had in the past but the thought that now those same looks got him in a mess of trouble now, should he live… Trouble he couldn’t get out of, trouble he wouldn’t be able to say “no” to. While yes, some of the men had gone out to show off their physique, he was fairly certain that his own costume was as close to naked as someone could get.
“Gotta pay rent just like tha rest’v ya, yeah ‘n… Well infer what’cha want ‘bout m’love life.” He said casually enough, he was fairly sure now that this young man had nothing on him and if anything else the observant man settled his fear - people in the Capitol bought that he was available and looking.
But then his world screeched to a stop. He barely looked at Jett, he was sure of it, he made it a habit to stay away from him and devote his time and effort to his brother, to Tasha, to the others from District 2. At first Mathias thought he was just bluffing but his poker face was gone as Heracles continued. His eyes widened and that smirk was wiped right off his face in exchange for his mouth parting open. Every word hit him like a sword running him through. For the first time he felt wholly transparent. No one, not even his brother, knew about Jett, knew about how he felt for Jett. And Heracles got it with a glance?
His mouth closed as he got more serious, his eyes downcast somewhat before setting his jaw and shaking his head slightly. Debating in himself whether or not he should reveal his real plan.
“No… ‘Cause m’not.” He just stated and he was fairly sure that Heracles wouldn’t even believe him. He hadn’t told anyone but… If it got down to just Jett and Mathias, Jett would end up being the winner.
Heracles wasn’t the least prideful in the fact that his deductions proved correct. He’d already known them to be just that while evaluating his opponents and battlefield. Not often was he wrong about the workings of the inner mind or that of the heart, no matter his lack of one-on-one with either. A solitary man, but he was always watching, always looking.
It was weird to him that he did feel a bit sad at just how surprised the paler boy before him even seemed at all this. Surely he didn’t expect no one to notice. Whether it be an audience member eager to see the group fight to the death or another teammate, someone would’ve caught the glint in his eyes when his gaze rested on that of the green-eyed loner. At first, he had thought the feelings anything but mutual, as Jett reacted so sourly towards any of the blond’s reactions to him; the ones that were, obvious to the farmhand, anything but genuine. Though, the younger boy’s after-emotions proved to Heracles that whatever they held with each other before was more than a relationship of the friendly kind.
People were so interesting and, with time, easy to read.
Heracles observed Mathias’ body language, showing him just how tense the interrogation had made him. His breath looked to be picking up before it all but stopped altogether, the olive-skinned male reaching the climax of it all within a few words. Just what was their plan, anyway? The man had taken up an alliance with Jett, but he wasn’t sure how anything would pan out. Really, though… Did any of the Tributes have any sort of plan at all besides, “Stay alive”? Honestly, Heracles hadn’t one passed kill whom oppose you; of which didn’t even include the finer details of weaponry, supplies, and the multiple plans of attack customizable to fit whatever terrain they’re thrown into. Usually he planned so much more than this, but his mind wandered off in interest towards the conflict between two aching hearts.
That curiosity and attention darted forward into the conversation still, hearing the fragment of a decision Mathias had made for the scenario the taller laid out on the table for him.
“…You do not plan on killing him..? That’s ridiculous… That cannot - …Why in the world would you just up and decide that there’s nothing for you to continue living for… Just what in the world will you do if, hypothetically speaking, you and Jett are the last two of us all to face off in the entirety of the Games..? Die in a noble ending act of valor and off yourself to keep him from forcing himself to do so..? That’s stupid, and I would think a prideful boy like yourself would think himself worth more than to end all possible outcomes involving Jett with suicide… Do you even understand what you will be putting him through..? Just what does he have in District 5 to return to that makes him higher than yourself in your own list of priorities..?” He thought about that himself, though without the end and in different context. He knew near nothing of Jett, his only established ally in the future slaughter frenzy.
Just what did Jett have back home? It was the only detail he was missing in his mental biography of that boy in particular… He’s caught up with almost anything else that was viable to his own interests in the youth.
(Source: greekgodsandcatnaps)
“…That’s about as good a description of your kind as any, I would say… Nothing against you, or anything… I mean nothing terribly negative by calling you such a thing, I assure you… It just fits you lot far too well to let it go unmentioned, I suppose…” Heracles kept the eye contact going, gaze unfaltering. The only breaks he took inbetween were the split-second blinks now and then, and even then those were far and few.
“…I would not say you are sunk, Mathias… You aren’t one to leave yourself unadapted, as I’ve noticed during training… Though, I’ve also noticed you’ve got yourself a… Distraction, of sorts, amongst our ranks… Is that right..? Hope that doesn’t hurt your game plan during the actual competition… It’d be a shame…” His interrogation and comments made him develop a small smile, eyes flickering to the side - that side of him, if looked past, one might see the passing form of the young, sunkissed man hailing from District 5, on his way to take his own seat for the meal.
Heracles lifted and lofted his drink, sipping softly from it. His meal remained untouched for now, but he’d get to that soon enough.
“Then let’s call that m’job then, not quite like farmin’ but… it’ll pay tha rent, yeah?” He smiled easily but maybe he did underestimate the young man. He might have even been Mathias’ senior, if only by a few months. Maybe it was even weeks, days. He’d never know. But he never thought the eyes that had followed him and the others from District 1 and 2 also belonged to the one.
At the mention of a distraction his thoughts instantly went to his brother, his younger brother who was no less deadly than himself but that small smile betrayed that. He looked behind Heracles to the polished wall and for a moment, a fraction of a moment, his heart stopped. Had Heracles seen the two disappear the first day of training? But as soon as blue eyes were back on his own he flashed a winning smile.
“Tasha is part’v m’plan.” He countered, the nickname might help things. “She’s hardly a distraction, well - maybe. But not durin’ trainin’ hours.” He purred, if he couldn’t convince this guy, what were the hopes that the Capitol would believe it? Then again, they were notoriously simple-minded and swayed by any sort of story good or bad.
“…As if a priviledged boy like yourself has to pay any form of rent… Maybe with those lovely looks of yours… I am sure, just as you’ve won so many hearts of the Capitol, you’re quite the heartbreaker back home as well, hm..?” The Golden Boy has been one the farmer has kept quite a bit of focus on. Out of strategy, and complete curiosity. All of the combatants drew his attention, however, so Mathias was no unique in that fact.
“…Ah, yes… The one you look at as if she were a younger sister of yours, not in the way I am describing to you… You’ve certainly never given ‘Tasha’ such looks as you have the one named Jett… It’s obvious to me, even if those occasional look-sees go right over our audiences’ heads… To be in something like these murderous trials, one must have sharp eyes, just as I have… I’m more than just muscle, I will have you know… I’ve looked over crops, staring them down as acutely as my eyes allow me for the slightest imperfections before shipping them off to use as future meals… Not much slips past me if I’ve given enough attention…” His expression became all the more amused, a drowsy laugh slipping past that knowing smile of his.
“…One would think I’d be able to spot a look of love or two throughout a day… That’s why you stumbled that first day..? On the obstacle course net..?” He lifted up a hand, shaking his head. “…Do not get the wrong idea from this… I have no plans of revealing such a thing to anyone, nor do I plan on forcing anything unto either of you for my own gain… But, I must ask… What in the world do you plan to do if you two come against each other in the Games..?”
That smile dragged downward, the edges of his mouth forming a slightly curved line of sympathetic worry. “…I know nothing of love through personal experience, but I can definitely spot it… I also know that there is no room for it on a battlefield of any kind… This situation is rather sad, pitiful almost, and I’m curious if you’ve even given yourself a chance at making a plan to kill him…” The blond knew not of the recent alliance between him and Jett, so to earn this information, one might think it beneficial. Not Heracles. He was genuinely worried for either’s feelings, as one of a more philosophical mind might.
kingofscandinavia replied to your post: The blonde 18 year old was suddenly across the table from the handsome young man from District 4. It was just after their training for the day and they gathered, like always, in the lunchroom afterwards. “Hey! Uhh- Herc was it? Hey, nice t’meet’cha. Mind’f I sit?”“Gootcha, sorry. Lot’s’v other things goin’ on. Ya understand. M’Mat by tha way - ‘n ya can call me that if ya want.” he smiled and took a seat but at once didn’t seem interested in the rich food he had before him. “So. B’fore this - what were ya?”
“…Mathias, yes… I know who you are… I know of everyone in this unfortunate series of killings… You’re from District 1 - a Career - and you’re quite… Strong, aren’t you..?” The question was rhetorical, obviously. Heracles sighed to himself, his own eyes fixated on the blues before him, narrowing slightly, but in nothing but growing interest. “…I was a farmer… I worked on the fields and grew crops… I inherited the farm from my mother after her passing… Simple enough work, you know… And what did you do..? Did you have a specific trade at all, or did you just move around as you pleased..?”
”A Career? S’that what they call us? Sounds interestin’ enough. What? We make a career outta tha Games?” He pouted his lips and shrugged a shoulder. While it was true, there were tons of people who even volunteered for the Games in his District because they were such deadly and prestigious fighters. The only real rivals were those from District 2 but they were among the most winning of all the games.
He let the “strong” comment go, he was every bit as strong as anyone though he reasoned that maybe Ludwig was the most bulky out of the pack. He didn’t even waver in meeting the farmer’s blue-green hues, he barely even blinked.
Farmer tools, sickles, shovels, pitchforks… He made a mental note of to what to keep away from this one. Luckily their choices seemed to coincide. Much easier to handle.
“Me? Ahh well, I mean unless they’re givin’ us a boat r’electrical equpiment t’work on I think m’sunk m’friend.” he laughed easily and shook his head, only after gaining that information did he break eye contact to take a bite of his lunch. “S’much as we’re ‘bout luxury we do have real jobs s’well ya know.” he waved his fork Heracles’ way and broke out into another grin, snickering to himself.
“…That’s about as good a description of your kind as any, I would say… Nothing against you, or anything… I mean nothing terribly negative by calling you such a thing, I assure you… It just fits you lot far too well to let it go unmentioned, I suppose…” Heracles kept the eye contact going, gaze unfaltering. The only breaks he took inbetween were the split-second blinks now and then, and even then those were far and few.
“…I would not say you are sunk, Mathias… You aren’t one to leave yourself unadapted, as I’ve noticed during training… Though, I’ve also noticed you’ve got yourself a… Distraction, of sorts, amongst our ranks… Is that right..? Hope that doesn’t hurt your game plan during the actual competition… It’d be a shame…” His interrogation and comments made him develop a small smile, eyes flickering to the side - that side of him, if looked past, one might see the passing form of the young, sunkissed man hailing from District 5, on his way to take his own seat for the meal.
Heracles lifted and lofted his drink, sipping softly from it. His meal remained untouched for now, but he’d get to that soon enough.
Tribute Parade
Some might say the makeover artists had far too much fun with the built man in their wake. His body was a sculpture, a piece of art already enough without their tinkering, but they looked to perfect that perfection even further with the aid of a costume and accessories galore. The abundance of canvas, so to speak, that Heracles provided with them pleased them in more ways than one. His size gave them so much to work with, so much to dress up and beautify.
To be of the agricultural district was an easy enough thing to dress him up for. It would be something of plentiful vegetation, fertile tracts of land, and the prowess of those in the fields - a tribute to those people whom provide the regions of Panem with food aplenty. Well. Certain parts, anyway. Heracles would act as a beacon of the lands’ bounties year after year, and would be shown as some sort of god for those natural fruits of labor. It was a stupid act of showing pride for that District, as he wasn’t even the one whom gave the idea for it. They thought that he’d be representing them proudly when, in fact, the gesture would mean nothing to his District’s people. He was a Tribute and puppet, a being sentenced to death for sport, and nothing more.
However, those realizations within himself were unvoiced and unverbalized as the artists went to work on their masterpiece-in-progress. Paintbrushes dragged along olive skin. A glue-like substance plastered in dots, mapping out the design that would adorn the tanned flesh in only a short amount of time yet. His clothes were removed, save for a set of wrist and ankle bracers and a pair of skin tight undergarments to adorn his hips and inches below - each of which imitated the vibrant green of the fields and vegetation that cover District 4’s landscape.
Vines were wrapped around his mid-section, secured and set with a slow-growing process. The living, breathing plant moving around in the directions set by the droplets of glue on his skin was an almost magical beginning and it was made to last slowly, surely throughout the entire parade. Painted amongst him were other types of plants and such. After they dried as much as they could, the artists went to work with doing him a favor in terms of earning potential sponsors. To accentuate his muscles and the toned skin still revealed by the rather risque nature of his costume, they rubbed an oil over his skin. Funny enough, it was a vegetable-based oil, but it did do it’s job. His skin shined in the artificial lights of the dressing rooms and they decided then that he was ready, just as the parade started itself.
He was led to his District’s chariot, placed on one side and immediately after, it started off. Heracles could feel the plants growing, creeping around his skin with each second that passed. He didn’t mind it, but it wasn’t too appreciated by some of the crowd. An entire side of the man’s body was being covered by the growing plant, leaving only one to be bare. However, starting out, his outfit lacked anything to leave much to the imagination. Now, the vines were working to make the upper part of a toga almost against his torso, one pectoral revealed still.
Heracles did feel regal in the get-up, but still found it nothing more than a way to show-boat, to show him off like a prized animal, one of the best.
But every one of the prized animals worth showing off would only end up being killed. For food in that case. In this case… Heracles, as an animal, would be thrown against others to be killed for sport.
