Author Games: Trial By Fire

Becoming a Winner - Claudine Monroe#31st

"This is my favourite moment, that moment a tribute... becomes a Victor," ~ Ceaser Flickerman.

Name: Claudine Monroe

Age: 61

Personality/Traits: Veteran of war. She’s highly disciplined, sharp and respectful as well as respected by her district. She’s calm and wise though tends to think she’s once again a young woman striding proud in the arena. She’s intelligent and, though no longer athletically built, determined. She never gives up and, as a dignified warrior, will die as she fights; with honour.

District: Two

Physical Description: Small, almost plump though you can tell muscle and ability once dwelled in her figure. Her dry golden hair is now matted compared to the glistening silky features it once possessed. She has a kind smile and deep navy eyes though her round face is often sharp, serious and stern.

Celebrity Look-a-like and Link: Meryl Streep

Game that they won: 31st

Weapon of Choice AND skills: Bow and arrows

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Claudine of District Two - CatchingOdair

After a while, it starts to hurt.

I look at all the other smug Victors of my district, some turned to drink or morphine, spiralling into a sinking depression. I am Claudine. The one Victor that for one reason or another is always happy, always brings up the mood. The cheery one, the one person that, with a hug and a smile, a song while walking down the hall, can bring someone just a bit farther out of that ditch of horror.

But after a while, it starts to burn.. to ache with searing pain. 

There are the days I shift along, watching nothing but the ground in front of me and listening to what other people happen to be saying. Speaking no words and showing no emotion. This is my depression. This is my Victory. And as soon as someone asks, "Claudine?" I turn back on the smile. Because someone has to do it. Someone has to act like everything is all right, no matter how much of a dirty lie it all is. For him.

I remember the cold days we spent, Glaba and I, staring out at the rocks and caves.

Those were the days I often say with a weak smile and a sigh.

My mind revolves around the time given to me in the arena. The time I had planned to stride proud amongst the dead. Until, indeed, he changed me... that cold winter night when the arena was sparkling white pearls of snow and the frost sheeted the jagged rocks of the arena.

He came back... that night; he came back and said...

“There’s two left then,”

The words hurt. I knew he had been out to kill... more importantly, I knew we would soon have to part. I stood from my bed of rocks within the cave and glided weakly to the strong man.

He pulled me into a hug, burying his face into my shoulder. How it pained me to see him so sad.

“Glaba? What’s wrong...?” I recall asking with suspicion. He frowned and began to break into tears; this monstrous boy from district two quietly wept before me.

His hand shuddered and gently rose; his palm was stained in a sickly orange liquid.

He looked up his eyes laden with sapphire tears.

“I’ll do it y-you know... F-f-for you, I’ll do it!” His voice was no longer strong but wet and faltering at every word. He sniffed and wiped his arm across his face.

“Glaba... what’s that? What are they?” I guiltily remeber asking so carlessly.

“They must have a winner...” He sniffled looking at the pile of ruby berries in his pale hand....

There are the days when I am frozen, sitting down and doing nothing at all for hours at a time but thinking; pondering about life, and what it means to have gained my Victory.