Application for The Games

[talltaleteller]

OUT of CHARACTER
Name: Lampdevil
Other characters: Haruto Soma

IN CHARACTER
Name: Luckyuro
Alias: Felicity "Luckyuro" Yoshida (Panem AU's name)
Fandom: Voltasaur Sentai Kyoryuger
Canon point/AU: AU

Journal: talltaleteller
PB: Aika Mitsui
Age: 16
History: Canon history is here.

Felicity was born in District 2, to a family with ties to law enforcement and known for raising Career Tributes. Her uncle Torin Byrd was a victor years and years ago, and it was his willingness to participate in his sister Candy's stead that resulted in Felicity's birth even being possible. (Candy Byrd may have been impressive with a pole-arm and cute as a button, but she didn't have the attitude necessary to survive in the arena.) She married Algernon Yoshida, an eager young peacekeeper, and started a happy little family with him.

And all things considered, life was very happy. Life in District 2 was good, and Felicity grew up both spoiled and somewhat sheltered from the greater realities of what was happening in the wider world. Her mother wasn't particularly political, her father was absolutely loyal to the Capitol, and her uncle Torin exerted his influence wherever he could to ensure that Felicity would have as little chance as possible at entering the arena. He couldn't keep her name being entered into the bowl the mandatory times, but he could push back against her grandfather's wishes to have her train and start on the path of a career tribute. And he could make sure that his sister's family had whatever they needed, even in the lean times, so there was no temptation to put in for tesserae. She did a round or two of "self defense courses" and showed a bit of talent, but didn't really like them. People yelled at her, and she got all sweaty, and it just wasn't fun. What she really liked was writing.

Felicty's creative streak manifested at an early age. As soon as she had the vocabulary to do so, she was always nattering on with stories about this, that, and everything in between. Her dolls were always involved in some kind of complicated interpersonal dramas. Asking her how her day was at school was a good way to get your ear talked off with tales both wildly embellished and entirely fabricated. Her mother tried to discourage her from all this outright lying by instead encouraging her to write all of these creative things down on paper. Piles and piles of notebooks proceeded to be filled with Felicity's fanciful fabrications. English became her best subject, and her teachers gushed at how creative and talented she was for her age.

When she was old enough to start going to a school with somewhat unfettered network access, a whole new world of creative writing became available to Felicity. While she had written a short story or two around the drama of The Games, she had never been aware of the lively Capitol-based fandom that surrounded them. It was fascinating, and awful, and amazing, and she was hooked. Especially since she was convinced that she was a better writer than some of these people already posting their work. She spent the next few days scribbling out a bit of torrid, overdone romance between two of the current tributes, then typed it up, made an account under the name "Luckyuro", and posted it the next time she had a little spare time at the labs, and immediately received some positive feedback. She was hooked, and the pattern of write-at-home, post-when-no-one's-looking continued. She knew there was something kind of wrong about the whole thing, on some level, but that was a big part of what made it exciting. In her bid to get more free time in the computer labs, she joined the school newspaper... and found that she actually enjoyed the work there, too. Running around asking people nosy questions in the name of "interviewing" them was pretty great. As was turning all that juicy material into juicy articles. She started to consider making this her actual career path. Maybe someday she'd be a glamorous reporter, living in the Capitol, attending galas and press conferences, making sure that people knew the most interesting things going on....

The introduction of the never-ending quell was a relief and a shock, but mostly gave her more material to work with, and more to be enthusiastic about. When it wasn't real kids from the Districts having awful things happen to them it felt... safer. The cognitive dissonance was easier to keep up. There was no longer that specter of her getting to, first-hand, live out all those dramatic tales of life and death. And there were such fascinating people to write about! Ones that stuck around in the public eye for so much longer, and that you came to know so much better. Her enthusiasm for her hobby grew to the point that she became sloppy in hiding it from her parents, but dad dismissed it as ridiculous nonsense and mom just resigned herself to it after giving Felicity a long lecture about "being careful". At least her daughter wasn't out past curfew getting drunk and/or felt up.

Things are about to take a turn for the much more interesting, however. Her father has received a promotion and a transfer to the Capitol. And along with it, the permission and funding to take his family along with him. It's wonderful and terrifying all at the same time, for Felicity knows that these things are hardly coincidences and that doing something really awful to family members is not entirely out of the question, when it comes to an angry Capitol. Uncle Torin is many things and she loves him dearly, but he's terribly soft. On the other hand, she will be right smack-dab in the middle of the life that she's been dreaming and writing about for so long. It won't just be luxury for it's own sake, though. It will be valuable experience that she can use in her writing, or so she has managed to convince herself. And it will be a chance to meet the right people, get into the right places, and maybe even make a career out of her love for words! A positive attitude really helps a person sleep at night a lot better than fretting too hard over the possible negative consequences.

Presentation: Felicity is the sort of person who is grandly enthusiastic about the things that she cares about, and sort of apathetic about just about everything else. She knows how to exert the base level of energy and activity to keep from failing classes or having her family come down on her for being lazy, but she saves all her energy and passion for her writing and her friends. It's rare that she'll outright refuse to do something that she's been asked to do, but she'll drag her heels, procrastinate, and complain when the opportunity presents itself. She's book smart, and thinks that she's quite intelligent and clever, and fancies herself to be a talented writer and all-around person that's going places... but talking with her for any extended amount of time makes her age and knowledge level evident. She talks big and tries to look smart, and can even fool those less intelligent than her... but the genuinely intelligent will see that she's just a kid putting on airs. And if allowed to talk for too long, she will run out of confident steam and just start to babble and ramble.

She's happy to keep to the background of things. While she thrives on praise and appreciation, she doesn't seek glory. Within her circle of school friends, she's the hanger-on and the sidekick and the second banana. It's comfortable for her to be at someone else's disposal, as long as that someone else isn't asking her to do anything too annoying or difficult. And for the most part, the things that her friends want from her are no imposition. She's the go-to person if you need a spare pencil, a pad, a nail file, a hair elastic... she keeps herself prepared to be at the disposal of her friends, and totes an overstuffed bag around with her to accommodate that. It works out well for her. Being the useful sidekick in the background has the added benefit of knowing what everyone's doing, having a front row seat to any drama and chaos, and being entirely overlooked when others are fighting or secrets are being told. Sometime it's a matter of simply being overlooked, and sometimes she's purposely keeping out of sight or otherwise being a sneaky sneaker. Whatever the case, if there's something going down, Felicity is likely to be there with wide eyes and a notepad in hand.

Her hobby is writing, and she makes little secret of it. She's proud of her work and adults have generally praised her, and she always has a notebook and pencil available so that she can jot things down if they come to her. She always has some benign poetry or observational writing that's safe and easy to share with others. Her arena-related work is kept a lot closer to her chest, and only shared with those she feels are safe to show it to. This can sometimes result in her showing a strange mix of enthusiasm and ambivalence when asked about what she's working on. All of the really good stuff is kind of weird. Or likely to get her in trouble, depending on which tributes are in and which are out.

Being in the background as much as she is, she's a keen observer of people. She likes to try and work out what's going on in people's heads, or at least make interesting things up whole cloth, and then turn it into a great big exciting story. Though she's not as prone to exaggeration and lies as she was when little, she regularly embellishes things that happened to make them sound more interesting and exciting. She's also often that person standing off to the side, making silly or snarky comments from the peanut gallery. It's easy to criticize when you're not the person that everyone's paying attention to.

Motivations: Praise and appreciation are things that Felicity wants, but she's cautious about just how she goes about looking for it. Growing up in the sort of family that she did, it didn't seem like a good idea to excel too much or stick out as being too adept at things. She was observant of things from even a young age, and had been witness at a distance to heated arguments between her parents, her grandfather, and her uncle. The conclusion that she drew was that bad things would happen if she was too exceptional. She doesn't try too hard on most things because she doesn't want the responsibility that comes with being the best, nor does she want the danger that comes with having a spotlight put upon you, in a family known for producing volunteers. Her hobbies are semi-anonymous enough that she feels like she can really put some passion and effort in, and she finds that sort of liberating.

Felicty puts so much effort in helping and supporting and praising others because she wants to be loved and appreciated for it. It's important for her to be told that she's smart and nice and good. If she goes without some sort of praise or appreciation for too long, she starts to get sulky, and starts to wonder if people actually do like her anymore. She hinges a lot of her self-worth on what she can do and not any inherently lovable quality about herself. Mom praised her when she was adorable and kind. Dad praised her when she was smart or polite. They were otherwise caught up in their own lives and concerns, and tended to overlook her and leave her to her own devices when she wasn't up in their face being their moderately-talented daughter, so she learned that she had to work for their affections.

She spends so much time watching people and thinking up stories for them because she genuinely likes people. She looks at people with rose-colored glasses, and in general, her stories are positive ones that show their subjects in the best possible light. Even if it's a sad story, it's sadness employed in the effort of making people feel sympathy for the characters. Her villains come off as one-note, and she refuses to write hate fic or bash other people's pairings. When she's nice, she means it. When she's snarky or snippy, she often feels bad not long after, and wants to apologize and take it back. She tends to get caught up in the excitement of bad things happening or a fight starting or violence happening to her favorite tributes on screen, do something meaner than she might have otherwise preferred, and then later cringe and want to somehow go back and fix it.

Setting: Felicity knows that The Games are hardly a good thing, taken as a whole. She's sharp enough to be able to peek through the propaganda and the party line, and to understand that they're a side effect of the big scary system that they're all stuck in... but it's so big, how can any of it be changed? And she's pretty safe and secure, so why struggle against it? She goes along to get along, and knows the right things to say so that there's no trouble at home or school or in the public eye. That's some of what the thrill of writing Games-based fiction is about. It's pretty wrong, when you really think about it... so she doesn't think about it. But being in the Capitol, seeing it all up close rather than at a vague and filtered distance, will start to erode her ability to ignore the inherent badness in the system. She already has sympathy for her favorite tributes. That sympathy will be easy to play on, if things eventually turn to talk of rebellion and risky business. She's no fighter, but she's got eyes and ears and a way with words, and that's totally something that can be put to work.

SAMPLES
First Person Thread:

For Capitol OCs and AUs: Somehow you ended up privy to a private post just gushing about how much they just LOVE the new games, how they think they are the best thing since sliced bread. Then the poster (Your friend? Some random person from a party who decided they wanted to send you their private thoughts? A rival trying to pin you into an uncomfortable spot?) namedrops you for your opinion on the new format, versus the quaint, old-fashion style of the game.

Everyone on the broadcast is just waiting for your input.

[Felicity pops into frame with breathless urgency. And also a goofy pair of costume glasses on, and her hair done up in the best imitation of trendy Capitol style that she could manage after a few hours barricaded in the bathroom. One needs to look like they belong when participating in a big fandom chat like this.]

Oh! Hey! The new Games? Wow, they've been really great. I mean, there are all these new Tributes from all over, and so many more of them. And we get to see them for so much longer, too! It's like... it's like, we really come to know them so much better. The highs are higher! The lows are lower... And I think it's really bringing everyone together. We're all cheering so much harder for our Tributes! Or, well... I know I am!

But I think the best part? There's so, so many more couples! [She stops to laugh, and though she was aiming for a cute giggle, it comes out as a chuckle that ends in a little snort.] ...I mean! Aah, I mean... you really hope that so many of them get together! Love forged in the heart of hardship... aaah, that's the coolest thing, don't you think?


Prose:

You have been set in a room in front of the Gamemakers to be judged on a score of one to twelve, with one being the lowest and twelve being the highest. The Gamemakers sit safely behind a force field and watch, and you are provided with an array of weapons and targets, though no gun to be seen.

If you are a new tribute, you have been plucked from home and rushed in here with only a brief explanation of what is going on: You are about to enter an arena death match that only one person will make it out of, and impressing these people will help you live.

If you are someone from Panem, then you are very unlucky. You know what's going on but... you were told all the tributes were from a foreign land now. So why are you in front of the Gamemakers fighting for your life now? Are you a criminal, a traitor, deeply in debt? Or do you even know why you were shoved in to this room?

She had thought about it, written about it, spent nights awake wondering about it... and now, here she was, standing in front of a panel of Gamemakers being made to strut her stuff and she did not like it at all. Though there was a tiny part of her hovering gently above and slightly outside of her body taking in every detail with the hope of remembering it to write about later, there was a much larger part of herself that was living in the moment and absolutely terrified. Grandfather finally pulled some strings. Father didn't do his job well enough. Uncle Torin finally couldn't keep a lid on it. And now here she was, in her cute Capitol dress and shaking in her cute Capitol shoes, trying to think of a plan to get herself safely out of this.

"O...Okay, okay! I'm Felicity Yoshida!" She gives a quick curtsey, then a quick bow, then smooths herself down and waits for an indication that she should continue. Nothing. Well okay. Time to get demonstrating. She scampers her way on over to the weapon rack, pulls herself up a quarterstaff of appropriate size, and takes a breath as she adjusts her grip on it. It's been years since she learned any of this, but it'll come back to her, right? Right. It's totally going to come back. She sets back out for the middle of the room with a determined look, assumes what she remembers to be the right stance, and demonstrates some basic staff strikes. Shoulder-level from the left, shoulder-level from the right, defensive step back, heavy overhead swing forward with a noisy slam to the ground... and then she draws back and stops. What comes next, what comes next, what if there was someone she was really fighting, what does she do, what does she do?!

"...well! I can do that, but... but that's not what I'm really good at!" A plan has come to her, and now she is going to roll with it. She drops her staff with a clatter and bolts for the supplies at the other end of the room. One training dummy is grabbed and dragged into position. She spends a few moments frantically scrambling around the weapons, grabs a small knife and tucks it into the back of her dress's fancy belt, then bolts for another dummy. That's moved into position several meters away from the first dummy, posed sidelong to it. Then she clears her throat and drapes herself dramatically over it. "Help me! Please, please, I, I'm not ready for any of this and... and it's all a mistake..." She affects a noisy sniffle, and there are actual tears in her eyes now. It's not hard to will them into existence in a situation like this. Her grip becomes less clingy, more gentle, and she nuzzles at the dummy's shoulder. "I... I've seen some stuff, y'know? I know where that other guy is. I'll watch your back. You can go get 'em." And then, earnestly, she looks up as though staring soulfully in the dummy's eyes. "We're in this together, aren't we?"

There! The scene was set, and it was time for act two! She unlatches from the dummy, scoots all the way around to stand behind it, and then pushes it towards the first one. "You show him what for! Bring him down! He's awful! Woo!" And, to help this simulated combat along, once the two dummies are close enough, she gives a great big kick and tumbles the first one over. "Yeah! You did it! Way to go!" But she's backpedaling from that awfully quickly. And then she is hauling out that 'secret' knife and stabbing the dummy she had professed such loyalty to. Though it wasn't much of a stab... so she hauls it out and stabs again! And then again, lower, because there's kidneys there, probably! And then higher, just to be really sure that she got them!

"...tada!" With her demonstration done, she spins on one foot, arms held up high, and takes a bow. That was really dramatic, even if it wasn't all that good... and Arenas needed drama, didn't they?

What is your character scored: Felicity should weigh in somewhere around a 3, between some vaguely-remembered training from her youth an effort to present herself as both endearing and devious. Because she's not that endearing and not that devious, and is wildly outclassed by just about everyone else in there, 3 seems about right for her.

Token: A pen seems too potentially useful for jabbing people with, so if she were to get chucked into the arena and need a token, a pin with a quill-and-inkwell design would be hers.

Additional information:

Hunger Games AU and OC: What is your reasoning for the capitol to include your canon doppelganger if they app in? What district is your character from? How do they feel about home?

If the Capitol were to drag in canon Luckyuro, it would likely be a jab at either her activities, or those of the rest of her family. It would also be all kinds of weird, because the actual Luckyuro is a strange scarecrow-monster-thing of ambiguous gender. Felicity would be at quite put out that her alternate self is not a cool and sexy bad-ass of some sort. Frankly, it's kind of embarrassing, and she'd want to try and distance herself from them.

Felicity is from District 2, and she's fond of it because it's home. Maybe it's not the richest, or the most unique, or the friendliest... but darn it, it's where she's from, and that counts for something. Up until this transfer to the Capitol, she's never been away from it, so it's not like she has much else to compare it to first-hand. She does wish that it had a lot less of a focus on police and bureaucracy, if just so her family would stop pressuring her to consider law enforcement or boring paper pushing as a job, but hey, it is what it is and she can't change it, can she?