|
Post by Sweeny Gee on Sept 8, 2010 20:00:36 GMT -5
* Music plays, Avox behind the camera signs for 3... 2... 1.... Snap!*
Good evening everyone, and welcome back from our break! (waits for crowd that has gathered near the stage to quiet) I am coming to you live from the Capitol, and am here to introduce each and every tribute to you this evening.
At this time I would like to call District 1's tribute to the stage.... Eliza Taylors! (waits for them to come in) Good evening Eliza, and I am sincerely sorry for under which circumstances on which we are meeting. However cheer up beautiful, you are a Career. Odds are you will be the one to come out on top! Please sit down, just try not to disturb your costume too much, it could sell for allot of money later on if you win.... (waits for Tribute to sit down)
Now I have a distinct set of questions to ask you. These are be generic questions I will ask each tribute, just so that everyone gets to know you. Who knows some of this information could get you some extra nice things in the Arena. However be warned, I may throw in a random question just for you.
We all know that all the tributes will be fighting for their lives, but there is almost always a driving force behind the winners. Tell me Eliza, do you have anything, or anyone, really special you will be fighting to come home to?
|
|
|
Post by Eliza Taylors on Sept 8, 2010 20:48:23 GMT -5
Eliza smiled as the interviewer introduced her. She was sitting in her shiny, skin tight mini dress. Her designer had wanted to show off her elegant body, as he put it. Supposedly they hadn't had a Tribute like her before. Eliza smiled as he asked her a simple question. Was there anything for her to go home to?
"I'm fighting to prove that I can win. I'm not even a career you know?" she said smiling. Most of Panem believed that all teens that were Tributes were Careers. They were wrong this year. This year there was an ordinary teen fighting. Not fighting for anything in particular, just fighting.
|
|
|
Post by Sweeny Gee on Sept 8, 2010 21:20:50 GMT -5
Fighting to prove you can win eh? Well, you sure are a fiesty one aren't you. Oh you aren't a career, well that is interesting, a high district number tribute not a Career. Who would have thought it. I do hope you have trained yourself well for these games bedause well they aren't very game like on your side of the screen. *crosses legs and sits back examining Eliza* You have a beautiful costume tonight Eliza, your designer should be proud. Doesn't she look beautiful everyone? *turns to the croud, there are a few cat calls but mostly murmers of concent*
Eliza, you say you are just fighting to prove that you can win. However you are a very pretty girl. Do you happen to have a special someone back home? Or do you perhaps... have any siblings?! *winks at Eliza* (more cat calls from the background) Now now everyone be civil, She may be pretty but she isn't up for grabs by us capitol men till after the games if she wins. Don't worry my girl, us capitol men are all bark and no bite. It is the women you have to be careful of.
|
|
|
Post by Eliza Taylors on Sept 10, 2010 15:03:11 GMT -5
Eliza nodded. It was rather odd for a District 1 tribute to not be a career, she was fine with it. She knew Ren and he was a career so if she stayed with him she was good. Or so she though. It didn't always work out like that. Eliza blushed as he commented on how she looked. She knew that she was beautiful, she was told it all the time, but she had never been told it by someone on live TV. She didn't think she would be on TV, she had messed up a lot of important plans. Eliza laughed slightly as everyone kept cat calling her. Obviously she was a high pick for the audience because of her looks.
"I've never had a boyfriend, so no, I have no siblings since my parents moved to District 1 after I was born" she said as she heard more cat calls. She smoothed out her dress a little, she found it comfortable but most of the girls probably wouldn't because of how tight it was, she was more comfortable in tight clothing than anything.
|
|