casus belli
(n.) "An act or situation
provoking or justifying war."

Left without a victor — following the disappearance of a certain girl on fire, as well as her blue-eyed cohort — the nation of Panem soon grew wise as to what had happened: Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark had been executed by the Capitol. Deciding not to act — not yet, at least — the citizens of the sovereignty stayed quiet, posthumously adopting the image of the Mockingjay as their emblem of dissidence. The dawn of of yet another round of the Games has arrived, and ties are beginning to fray just as they had once before. Seeing to it that no other victors will have the same effect that Katniss Everdeen did, the Capitol has veiled this year as but another Quarter Quell — one that will lead to the deaths of antecedent victors, that is. Welcome to the 75th Annual Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in your favour.


Good evening, everyone! Would love to receive an app or two today.

Posted 2 months ago on Jun 26th with 0 notes
Tagged: #thg rp #hunger games rp #hunger games roleplay #rpg #oc rp #hg rpg

There was once a girl with a quick-witted mind and bright eyes that mirrored the evergreen fields of her home district. A girl with a sweet and gentle voice that could silence the birds and send a baby to sleep, a girl who never had the odds in her favor…

Born in District Eleven as one of three, Acacia Gale was no stranger to poverty or starvation. Her family all worked the vast lands of the district for minimal pay, and she too began working alongside her older brother as soon as she could walk. It was easily a shame, to see a girl with such a beautiful mind to be stuck harvesting before the sun came up in the morning; until the stars shone faintly in the sky. However, Acacia knew of nothing else beyond her life and was therefore content. Like most, however, her family life was not perfect. When Acacia was seven, her mother died giving birth to her younger brother, and the girl not only was left as the only female in the house, but now the closest to a mother the small sickly child could get. Without time to mourn, Acacia raised her baby brother Oisin on her own without the help of her distant father or rough brother. It was hard – no, it was almost impossible to be a child in District Eleven, easily one of the poorest districts and subjected to tight peacekeeping. Acacia was used to seeing people beaten to a pulp by peacekeepers – no matter their age, always praying that she nor her family would meet the same fate. In this fear, Acacia was always taught to fight and defend – hand to hand combat, archery and knifes, her brother would train her if she asked, and being the farming district, these things were easy to find and train with, so it became a frequent occurrence. Eventually, Acacia began hunting, doing anything to make sure her younger brother could eat and live better than she did or ever had.

Acacia worked the land alongside her brothers, bonding with the animals that roamed free and the people she stood by from dawn until dusk, earning a little income. She studied well in the excuse for school she provided with, it still fueling her dreams of one day being a doctor – her mother had taught her how to heal and human anatomy was thrilling to her; and of course the larger income that came with. The only real joy she knew was when she was learning, or the times when her brother would beg her to sing. She once begged their mother, and he would smile and laugh – Acacia only wishing she knew hope like that.

Eventually, a new stir caused new pressure on Acacia – her father had been killed by peacekeepers, apparently he had attacked for no given reason. Naturally, Acacia blamed herself. She should have seen it coming. He had always been a harsh, aggressive and distant father; she didn’t doubt it spreading past the small confines of their farm house. He died shortly after her thirteenth birthday, and now she knew strain like never before, taking up a second job in the bakery, as well as hunting more, despite the growing danger. When a few months passed, her father was no longer spoken about and life was as normal as it could be. No one ever stopped mourning or feeling sad, but Acacia had to move on with life - everyone did.

On the day of her reaping, Acacia was in a dress for once – her skin scrubbed of its usual mud and her scars and bruises hidden away. She felt sick to her stomach at the thought of a reaping as usual and she hadn’t turned fourteen yet, so it was still early practice. When the boys were called and her brother cleared, she felt nothing short of utter relief, so much so she almost missed her own name being called - almost. With a brave face, she made her way to the stage, the girls of her own age who had watched her suffer for years, the girls who had trusted their younger siblings in to Acacia’s care when needed, the girls Acacia had helped in any way possible all stared on blankly – they were safe and Acacia was alone.

Acacia Gale would have happily died then – maybe even for the entertainment of others.  She would escape life gracefully but she couldn’t die, for although her own life means nothing, she raised her brother like a son and if she didn’t return home to him, Acacia cannot be certain of his safety and there was nothing in this world that could ever get in the way of that.

Naturally, no one thought she would make it. A small thirteen year old from the district that was among the least successful in the Hunger Games was not exactly a likely victor, and to this day Acacia doesn’t know how she survived, placing her win down to sheer brains and luck. The girl killed once: a boy a year younger than her, and it haunted her nightmares for the rest of her life. He attacked - she panicked and stabbed. His eyes turned lifeless and she began to shake; it killed her.  Acacia was baffled when she emerged victor - not that it wasn’t something she could live with. Broken and damaged, Acacia returned home hoping to find her baby brother. She could finally give him a better life in her district’s Victors’ Village, and listen to his laugh to bring her out of hell; only to learn he had died one night from illness.  Some say Acacia’s mind turned to ash that moment, others say it’s when her older brother later abandoned her. Either way, she became like a ghost of District Eleven – almost feared. Her heart appeared to turn into stone and she would be locked away in her house all day, only seen as a shadow now and then.

When the terms of the Quarter Quell were announced, Acacia had no choice as the only living female victor of the district. It probably shocked the whole of Panem to see a girl who had gone from looking like a wholesome baby to an adult with nothing but pain in her eyes in such a short space of time, but it happened quicker than anyone would know. She would be mad about her return, protest that she should live the rest of her miserable life in peace. But time has taken its toll and she seems too distant to care – unless that’s a front. Either way, there’s nothing more they can take from her now.

Since she was a child, Acacia has always been seen as a closed-off girl. Born with a weak heart, people always said the girl would die young and never live long enough to find joy in life. But she defied them all – which she often likes to do. Before her mother died, she was sweet and caring. Never naive, with losses and heart-ache, Acacia has developed an unemotional and guarded front, which some would say was there from birth. Somewhere deep within there’s still a girl with a loving and graceful heart, but no one seems to get close enough to find it. Like most in her district Acacia works extremely hard for everything in life, like she always had – never complaining. She’s certainly a strong-minded young woman, but no one could survive the Hunger Games without a little destruction of their previous character. One thing that goes without change is Acacia’s intelligence. Her brain is something quicker than lighting and as unstoppable as a storm. She certainly knows much more than the Capitol would ever want her to.

Bow and arrow


  • Strength, stamina, and hand-eye coordination.
  • Strong-minded, has knowledge of the wilderness, and is sharp-minded.


  • Speed, slow healing, and has a weak heart.
  • Unemotional, closed-off, and is self-deceptive.

The name “Eudocia Edevane” is one that was destined to never be forgotten. Sunset after sunset the Edevane girl allotted more than her fair share of time within the reinforced steel walls that housed District Four’s esteemed Training Centre. Familiarising herself with an array of ranged weapons — the hurlbat sat on the very top of that list — Eudocia prides her talent with a blade, as well as her inherently vivacious physique. Reigning from a lineage in which sings notorious to the social hierarchy comprised of Four’s most affluent of citizens, Eudocia was birthed into a vicinity that regarded her as a sovereign of sorts. Having had her every whim tended to from day one it was no surprise that she blossomed into the spitfire that she is today: a crude, spiteful woman with a disregard for those whom aren’t constituent of the aristocracy.

The notoriety of the Edevanes doesn’t spring from this brazen-haired Capitol devotee, but from the very one that failed to bring a dwindling name back into prestige: Icarus Edevane. Much like his sister, the jade-eyed man cultivated a set of skills over the years and often held his head a bit higher than those around him. Braving the Arena with a steely disposition from the sounding of the gong the man killed indiscriminately. It sent airwaves askew when he didn’t reign supreme, instead falling into the category of second place.

Upon her procurement of the famed title of “tribute,” the girl was whisked away from a land of renowned monochrome and into a world of vibrant hues accented with frilly syllables. It was there that jacinthe locks and cerulean halos clawed their way to the frontlines of the battle, managing to shine the brightest whilst listed amongst the ranks. In succession of earning herself a brazen “ten” the spitfire then shot off into the obfuscating shadows of the Arena, never to truly be seen again.

Unbeknownst to the Capitol, amongst darkened crimson and rotting corpses, a new entity was born. A conflagration ignited itself within the being of Eudocia, charring her from the inside out as chimerical flames kissed porcelain flesh. Birthed from the ashes of a girl set aflame was something much more feral than it’s already savage predecessor. A child of the Arena was what they called her — a by-product of the Games in its entirety. Comprised of pure, guttural instinct amplified by means of years upon years of training, the wraith sliced through the Games with primordial animosity. Visions of red on red clouded her line of sight, only daring to make way for another kill; another cannon.

The youth’s reverie cracked only when the sounding of the final bellow resonated throughout the Arena — the voices of those now deceased following in its wake. The once bona fide Edevane lass then began trickling through the fractures of her current form, although never to be branded as one hundred percent veritable.

Her sharp tongue returned soon enough — colour bubbling to the surface of her visage and reanimating a figure made grey over the period of a fortnight. This hadn’t been quick enough, however, as he’d abandoned her: the fisherman’s progeny. Without her beloved Iscariot Baxwell by her side, Eudocia slipped into a state of mental absentia and found fleeting solace in a spirituous, ochre-coloured liquid. No matter what intoxicant she consumed, however, they merely managed to ephemerally divert her attention from the ever lingering whispers of the Arena.

Now the dawn of Panem’s Third Quarter Quell has arrived, and the chance to partake in the Games once more has arisen. Interpreting this as but an omen from the Gods themselves, it was the hand of the seaborn girl herself in which cleaved the stagnant air of District Four when it came time for the Reaping. This was her chance to show the world that she was capable of conquering the Arena not once, but twice. And, perhaps, this was just what she needed to eternally silence the voices within her head.

Vile. Reprehensible. Vexatious.

These three words are best utilised when chronicling the guise of the young spitfire, her crude words and boastful front earning her such titles. Often found with her head held high and her lips pursed tightly in disgust, Eudocia Edevane is a spiteful lass whose execrable tongue is perhaps the only genuine thing of hers that’s survived the Games. The Eudocia in which is soon to yet again grace the screens of Panem is but a façade; an intricate reconstruction. It can be argued that the real Eudocia Edevane perished in the Arena; the woman that now stands in her place acting as but a wraith of her once former self.



  • Agility, speed, swimming, knife-wielding.
  • Steely, valiant (feigned), obstinate, self-reliant.


  • Plant identification, hand-to-hand combat, brute strength.
  • Incorrigible, supercilious, suffers from various effects of PTSD.

We’re officially back! Feel free to start sending in some apps — our first acceptance date is 27/6/14!

Posted 2 months ago on Jun 22nd with 0 notes
Tagged: #thg rp #thg roleplay #thg rpg #oc rp #rpg