Mailliw73

Name: Khuvlai Vagadh(Vagadh means Bold) Physical Description: He is 32, of darker skin(Nessei are similar to Mongols, so think of that) and has dark brown eyes with only the slightest variation between pupil and iris. He has dark black hair and is short(~5'7") and slim (~150 lbs.) History/Bio: Aguch was born into the Altauurid tribe years ago. He grew up as a normal infant of the tribe, with one exception: he was always trying to explore where he shouldn't. That trait stayed with him his entire life. As a child, he was always wandering away from his tribe, heedless of danger. When he turned twelve, he went through the coming of age ritual. He was given his adult name of Khuvlai and the identifier Vagadh, meaning bold. His secret name was also given to him: Ghalytai, meaning fire-smoke. The shaman who gave him the name realized that something was wrong with this. Typically, secret names have only one meaning. He was also bonded to his first horse, Khap, in that ritual. The stocky horse typical to Nessei tribes was a dark tan color with lighter, mottled patches at the feet. The shaman had decided to take Khuvlai as a protege after giving him his unusual spirit name. During his years of youth, Khuvlai studied under the shaman. He learned how to focus his mind, but never found a familiar. He learned however, that he could use the spirits of objects to fuel his magic. The shaman, Ethuki, became nervous after that. Magi are not common in Nessei culture and are regarded with fear and respect. Ethuki felt threatened by this new, powerful Mage. He distanced himself from Khuvlai and taught him only mundane things pertaining to the world. This is where Khuvlai learned to speak Imperial Kaloneri. He isn't fluent by any means, but can make himself understood in most cases. At fifteen, Khuvlai went through the ritual of becoming a man. He was given the finger bone of a great warrior of his tribe. His had belonged to his mother's father. Khuvlai continued to explore the land around his tribe, riding Khap around to go even more places. He went through all the ritual war trainings with the rest of his tribe, learning how to shoot a bow with extreme accuracy and how to duel with long knives. He fought in occasional battles when peoples attempted to drive them away from their land. Khuvlai obtained another horse when he was sixteen. He was making his way into Nessei society and had promise of becoming a leader of the tribe. He was also practicing his magic, but to avoid Ethuki's distrust, he did so mainly while out of the camp. He practiced with different techniques and learned that he couldn't create anything or destroy anything. He also had a harder time making anything happen at a distance. He discovered that small fires and smoke were the easiest for him. Smoke could be manipulated easily and used to hide something or distract. Fire burned and consumed. He began to learn how fire worked and how to create fuel for it and use air to propel that fuel. After practicing for a time, Khuvlai would tire easily. Sometimes, he kept pushing himself and he would get sick. One time, he even passed out for a short period of time. He noticed that the more he practiced, the more he could do. [Marriage stuff] Will be filled in when I get details on it. Alaqa and Khuvlai had a son two years after their marriage. Suvothi was born right before the Bolthayyid tribe declared a blood feud on the Altauurids. Khuvlai had to leave his infant child and recovering wife to fight for the tribe. He fought valiantly, but it made no difference. The Bolthayyids had managed to sneak into the Altauurid camp and slaughter some of the women and children before any of the men discovered it. The Bolthayyids were defeated soon after, but it was too late. Both Alaqa and Suvothi were found bleeding in the tent, dead from fatal wounds. Khuvlai was the only member of the tribe to have his entire family killed. Ethuki managed to use this situation to his advantage. He declared that Khuvlai had been consorting with evil spirits who had granted him evil powers. Khuvlai had brought the blood feud to the tribe because the ancestors of the Bolthayyids had come to cleanse the Nessei people of such uncleanliness. Ethuki proclaimed that that was the reason Khuvlai's son and wife had both been killed in the feud. The shaman declared exile for Khuvlai. Exile from the Nessei tribes was always permanent. Khuvlai was angry at Ethuki, but he left anyways. He took Khap and left the tribe, never to return. He spent the next years traveling and meeting new peoples. Most had inferior cultures, but Khuvlai found them interesting. His abilities as a mage were revered in some places and condemned in others. Khuvlai became a nomad, traveling around wherever and whenever he desired. He carried only his bow and quiver, his two long knives at his waist, and a pack with a sleeping roll and another set of clothes. He had one set of leather clothes and one of flax. He had learned as a youth how to mend his own clothes and did so as they wore out. Religion/Belief System (if any): Nessei don't have an organized religion, but they revere their ancestors. Khuvlai has this same belief. He prays to his ancestors for help on occasion. Magic User (Y): Mage-Type IIb Magic.

As Mill prepared for the platform to rise, he fingered Willa's wing pendant. He had brought it as his token. The green jumpsuit all the Tributes had been given matched perfectly with his forest-themed clothes he had worn all week. As the platform rose, he whispered. "Willa. Guide me." The platform arrived at the top of the tube and Mill looked around, quickly surveying his surroundings. A large field, cows grazing lazily, a river, and, a forest! Perfect. Forests were his home. He knew exactly where he'd be heading. The cows would also be an easy source of food. Unless they were some kind of muttation. Mill wouldn't put it past the Gamemakers to do that. Mill looked at the cornucopia next. It was small and only had supplies for less than half of the Tributes. If he went for it, he could get some valuable supplies, but he could be slaughtered quickly. Willa would've run away. She'd go straight for the forest as soon as the timer finished. Willa's wisdom and Mill's strong will were battling inside of him. The timer was running out. Mill needed to make a decision and he needed to make one quick. 3...2...1. Ash, I believe people have already set up PMs since Peng said that the rules applied before the game began. I, for one, already used up all of my PMs. Sorry, but I can't fix that, and I bet others have already done the same. ​I also agree about the mutations. That's where I'll be spending my time for the first couple cycles. They just have too much unpredictability to be helpful to ignore.

Peng, I'm curious, what is the arena going to be like? Or will you announce that when we start?

802 posts make up only 7% of this? Wow...

Yeah! A fellow 7. As promised, Mill's RP: Mill was not going to let these Games beat him. He had to, no he would win. Ma needed him. The Capitol couldn't beat Mill. Mill had the strength of District 7 in him. The spirit of the forest, the endurance of the trees, and the will of the people. He would come out victorious. He would survive. Willa would help him. She always had been the smart one; now Mill would need to start thinking like her. Isana was a girl younger than him. He had never met her before, but had seen her around. He was kind to her, but knew that in the end, he would have to kill her. He would survive. Their mentor was Lasie. She had won six years ago. She had been cunning enough to hide out from the Careers and wait until half the Tributes were dead before she looked for any of them. She had managed to grab a small axe from the outskirts of the Cornucopia before she ran and she had used it like only a 7 could. As soon as she had gotten a little ways into the forest, she climbed a tree quickly and waited. By that night, six Tributes had been killed. She stayed away from others, only leaving the safety of the trees to collect water. She had survived off leaves and bark. She had ended with killing only two other Tributes. The last was a Career from District 2. He had been so frustrated that a tree girl had evaded him for so long that he recklessly went through the entire forest looking for her. He had found her. But by the time he had, an axe was planted in his head. Lasie had thrown it from the top of the tree, hitting him perfectly. Evasion was the main tactic she recommended now. Mill didn't plan to play this game her way though. He would be vicious. He would survive. That was all that mattered. He recognized the cleverness of Lasie's strategy though, and intended to follow it when he could, but his bulk was better at felling trees than scaling them. Having grown up in District 7, he did know how to climb though. All 7s did. When they had arrived at the Capitol, Mill and Isana had been dressed for their chariot ride. Mill was outfitted in a dark green suit, nicer than any he had ever seen at home. It was patterned to look like a canopy of leaves. The tie was a light green with a vine pattern. He wore a crown of woven branches on his head and a tan axe was embroidered on the back of his suit. The chariot, like most years, was covered in a tangle of leaves and branches. The two horses were a dark brown and were outfitted with their own headdresses of leaves. It was one of the better designs the District Seven chariot and Tributes had had. There was a new stylist this year. The old one had always dressed the Tributes up like trees. Mill had always been so embarrassed for his district when he saw the previous outfits. Stoic and firm, he stood strong in the chariot, looking Capitol citizens in the eyes as he passed them, daring them to doubt. He wouldn't lose. He couldn't. His dark hair had been cut and styled in a strict fashion. Mill had requested that. He would show Panem that Seven was strong. Seven had spirit and would never back down. He had only the slightest makeup on, brown, of course, faint streaks around his eyes to give the appearance of wood. When the announcer proclaimed his and Isana's names, Mill thrust his fist into the air and kept it there. He would be strong. For Ma. *** The Training Center had been different than Mill had expected. Not only could you fight, but you could learn about plants and traps. He made sure to practice throwing knives and small axes, as he had never done so before. He showed the other Tributes his strength when he lifted weights. He dueled with assistants to work on hand to hand combat. With all that, he still made time to frequent the other stations. The trapping one had been interesting and Mill memorized one of the simple snares. He went once to the plants station, but learned that he already knew about most of the poisonous and healthy plants. While at the Training Center, Mill scoped out those who would make good allies. He knew that he might need to start with some to survive. He would never fully trust them, and expected no less, but he realized the value of them. A couple of the Careers looked promising, but so did some of the other Districts' Tributes. A few he decided to stay away from until the very end. They would eliminate some competition for him. *** Mill had scored a 9. He was proud. He had done it on purpose. He hasn't wanted to get a 12 and be too threatening, but he couldn't be seen as weak either. He had used an axe to brutally decapitate a couple dummies. He had shown his strength, but not done enough to get a top score. *** At his interview, he wore a somewhat similar costume as he had in the parade. This time, the suit was a dark brown jacket with green accents. The pants were tan cargo pants that provided a sharp contrast to the fancy jacket. A silver axe was emblazoned on the front pocket of the jacket and a large green oak tree on the back. He wore a simple grey tee shirt under the jacket. The stylist had again chosen well. It showed the strength and utility of District Seven, while still maintaining professionalism. He wore no makeup, but his hair had been dyed to create a tan streak through the middle of the dark brown. He wore the heavy boots that were common in Seven. Willa's wooden wing pendant was around his neck. The interviewer was a fool. Mill had decided that from the start with District One's female tribute. He pattered and was an idiot. When Mill walked out, he stood in front of his chair firmly, hands clasped in front of him. He nodded sharply to the man to begin. "Please, take a seat," the fool said. "I'd prefer not to," said Mill gruffly. Taken aback, the interviewer stuttered a bit. He recovered quickly though. "Standing it is then." He decided to stand as well. "Mill Rennert, District Seven. What went through your head as you were chosen?" "My Ma. She can't work and I need to provide for her. Without me, she'll can't survive. I will take care of her," Mill replied. "Yes, we saw your valiant effort to speak to her before you came here. You must love her very much." Mill answered only with a nod. He needed the right balance of strength and tenderness. He wanted the audience to sympathize with him, while also believing he had a chance to win. "Why will you win the Hunger Games?" The interviewer continued. "I have to. Ma needs me," Mill answered. It was as simple as that. He would win and he would survive. For Ma. Mill had seen how some of the other Tributes had handled the interview. Some were sarcastic, others friendly. Some rude and some nervous. Mill was none of those. He wasn't friendly, but he wouldn't be rude either. "Last question. What's this necklace? It must have some significance." Mill nodded. "It does. It was my sister's, Willa. She's dead now. These wings she wore are now going to lift me. I feel her standing right next to me, leading me on. Willa is how I'll win. I'll win with Willa and I'll win for Ma." He saw the faces of the crowd and knew he had done his job. He saw mixes of sympathy, surprise, and admiration in their expressions. "Thank you," Mill said looking to the crowd. The gratitude was superficially for the interviewer for getting to know him, but was really for the citizens out there watching. The people of Seven. Mill was thanking them for what they had taught him. He turned briskly and walked to sit with the other Tributes. "Tribute Mill Rennert from District Seven!" The interviewer proclaimed as Mill walked away. Yes. He was Tribute Mill Rennert. But soon, he would be Victor Mill Rennert.

So, do you guys think we should discuss if we'll be trying the cornucopia or not? Also, expect some RP later with the parade, training center, and interviews.

True. Maybe I'll use that. Yeah, the gloves work a lot better. I'll edit that now.

Sorry for the delay in my character profile. I've been working with Seonid to get it as accurate as possible. I should have it done today or tomorrow. Also, Unodus, can you please not quote posts when you reply in the other thread? It disrupts the flow and makes it harder to read.

Is that when all the rollover times will be? EDIT: Come on, people. No one's going to join me from 7? Mill's going to be a loner?

Are there going to be sponsors for real that can give items? Are we going to wait for 24 people or are we setting a deadline to start with whoever is available?

I don't know what to do with Freq either. I don't think he'd really join anyone, but then being by himself is boring to write.

Ah, yes, how could I forget? . It's been a while since we've seen those in action.

If you're looking at this, wondering if you should join, do it! We need five(I think) more players and these games are really fun, I promise!

Um, I forgot, are they ones that shoot energy blasts? I like that idea, but it'd probably end up being Luke or Sierra, the two Reckoners more interested in that.

Okay, I'll change it to the gloves then. I like that too.

Thanks! Well, not many people even have heard of Black Fist and very few are actually painting their hands, but you have a good point. I just don't think Corpsemaker would bother with it. I need Joe's opinion, but if he were to see a few people with black fists, I don't think he'd think much of it. It will gather momentum and become a larger thing, at which point there will be a confrontation, which is the scene I'm planning, but I don't think it'll be a big issue yet. Max doesn't even know about this yet. He (or some of the Reckoners) might try to discourage it if they think it will lead to something bad, but Max for one, will be proud that his idea is being carried so far. Does that sound reasonable? I don't want to God-mod this just for a cool scene. If it you don't think it'll work, I can try something else. (Maybe black gloves?)

Very much so. If you notice, the man had painted the back of his hand black. It's a new thing that popped up by itself. Max sowed the seeds of the rebellion and now, his contacts and the ones who joined his first have begun painting the backs of their right hands black, so that when they make a fist, it's a black fist. I'm leading up to a cool scene at some point where this is going to be a powerful thing.

And that's not even the main reason. That was just a bonus to his stress reliever. He's kinda nasty. What he did was use his electricity to burn patterns into the man's skin before severing some limbs. He sees it as some kind of art form. It's pretty messed up, if you ask me. Did anyone notice the Black Fist in that segment?

Oh for sure. Anyways, I doubt most people would stick to things like that. I've played too many of these games to think that way. Some RP: Mill had been working hard in the forest when they had been called back to the square for the Reaping. All the loggers slung their axes over their shoulders and began to head back. Mill stayed for a moment, as he always did. The others left him alone. They knew what he did and helped cover him. He brought out the wooden pendant that had belonged to his sister from its hiding place in the ground and kissed it. "Hey, sis. I don't have much time. It's the Reaping today," Mill whispered to the wooden wing necklace. "It's my last year in, but I had to put some extra names in this year to get some extra food for Ma. After today, I'm safe. I won't have to worry about these Games any more. Watch out for me, won't you? Wish me luck. Bye," Mill finished and kissed the pendant before he put it back in its hole in the dirt. As he walked away, he changed his mind and ran back quickly. He scrabbled at the dirt and pulled the necklace back out. He needed to feel Willa today. He ran and caught up with the other loggers. They let him cut through the group so he could make it to the plaza on time. He clutched the pendant tightly. It was the one thing he had left of Willa. She had died three years before in a tragic fire. She had been a year older than Mill. They had complemented each other perfectly. Mill was strong in body, Willa was strong of heart. He was brave, she was wise. Their differences would seem to cause them to fight, but it did the opposite. They each needed each other to be complete. When Willa was scared, Mill helped her be brave. When Mill was rash and foolish, she helped him think. When she had died, he had been devastated. A few months later, he was assigned to begin working in the forests. He threw himself into the work, fighting for Willa. He had to be able to help Ma and Willa couldn't help him anymore, so he had to do it all. Willa had helped their mother at home. Their father had died a few years after Mill was born and their mother had to begin working in the forest. She had lost a leg when someone had dropped their axe. It had cut her calf and severed the leg halfway up the calf. She had been able to get treatment so she could survive, but she had to use crutches from then on. She had a hard time with a lot of work. Willa had been the one who helped her cook and clean and earn money in her stead. When Mill was old enough to begin doing some small jobs in the district, he had helped where he could. Being in the forest all day now, though, he had to pay one of their neighbors to help Ma through the day. That took away much of their income. The rest went straight to food. If Mill was chosen in the Reaping though, he didn't know how Ma would survive. Hopefully some of her friends would pitch in where they could and help her survive. Mill pushed away the thoughts of the past and enjoyed the feeling of running. He loved the wind in his face, streaming through his hair. He shoved the pendant in his pocket as he approached the square. They wouldn't let him wear it here. He quickly dropped his axe off at home before dashing to the plaza. He made it just in time. He was the last boy in line, but he made it. They let him into the area where the boys stood and he waited. His friends were at the front, but he couldn't make his way to them. He tried, but he couldn't fit through any of the gaps between the other boys. He waited where he was. The Reaping began. He waited as they chose the girl name. No one he knew. When they drew from the boys' bowl, he began fidgeting. Every year, he was nervous; who wasn't? "The male Tribute this year is," everyone waited as the name was drawn, "Mill Rennert." Mill turned around, he was in shock. He couldn't hear anything else. He blocked it all out. All he could hear was his name, repeated over and over and over again. He pushed his way out of the crowd of boys. He headed for where the parents stood. His Ma would be in the back. Peacekeepers tried to stop him, but he was strong. He had chopped down trees every day for years; it had bulked him up. He shoved the first pair of peacekeepers to the ground as he ran to his Ma. He saw her. She was there, in the back, sobbing. Her friend, Senna, was trying to comfort her, but tears were coming from her eyes too. Mill was only a few steps away from her when four peacekeepers grabbed him from behind. "Ma!" He screamed. "Ma! I'll be back! Ma!" He struggled against the peacekeepers, but they held him back. One stabbed him and Mill slumped, unconscious in their arms. They dragged him off. When Mill woke up, he was on a train. They had skipped the goodbyes for him, probably because of his violent reaction. Mill knew one thing. He would be back to District 7. He would get back to his Ma. She needed him. He would get back. For Ma and for Willa.

For sure. Peng, do we need to include you in our three PMs?

Those were just suggestions on how we play. No doubt there will be plenty of lying and backstabbing, since there can be only one winner. That was just Newan's approach to this.

Hey, Peng, on that available districts list at the bottom of the player list, 9 on the females and 6 on the males should be removed.

I warned you it was dark. Electro is going to get progressively darker here on out. He's using his powers more and it's building his hatred of the city and of people and being around Corpsemaker doesn't help.

Oh, good. No big deal, I kinda deserved it.

Sorry, now it's up. The images were having troubles.