Epilogue Meme!

[dreadinquisitor]

Twenty years have passed since the first Arena of the 75th Hunger Games. Many things have changed. The Arenas are gone, replaced by monuments to the fallen. The Rebellion is over; the Capitol has been replaced by a more progressive government. The Girl on Fire, Katniss Everdeen, has married the Boy With The Bread, Peeta Mallark, and have two young children. All over, Panem and its Districts are slowly, but surely, being rebuilt for future generations untainted by the Hunger Games.

But one thing hasn't changed: your presence here. You are still here, even all these years later. During the last battles against the oppressive Capitol, the very technology which brought the Tributes to Panem was destroyed. Though some Tributes managed to return to their worlds safely, the majority of Tributes were not so lucky: they were trapped in a world not their own, perhaps for the rest of their lives. Some have managed to regain some powers, at least between those who had any; others have remained stubbornly without them, even without the Capitol's interference.

Yes, many things have changed since that "Never-Ending Quell". Including you, the Tributes. But life must go on. After all, there are worse games to play.


Post here, use a prompt if you'd like, and respond to others.
Any character is allowed in this meme, even if they are not in the game. Perhaps there are characters who wish to test their characters for The Games.
This takes place outside of The Games game canon. Anything that happens here does not necessarily carry over into the game.
Since this takes place in the future, some things are definitely different. Characters may have jobs, injuries, got married, had children. Perhaps characters who regained some powers have become stronger since then - or are even using those powers, for good or ill.



~Prompts~
(But anything goes if you don't want to use these)


*Its been a long time since your character has seen someone from the Games, so your character's going to visit them.

*What you've been doing since the Games. Where is your character now?

*Something impossible has happened - someone who returned to their home world has found a way back. But it's only been a few weeks or months since they've left, at least for them...

*So you've decided to return to your home and time. You've woken up either exactly as you were before you left, or totally different, it all seems to vary. But one thing for sure is different; somehow or other, someone else has managed to come with you.

*For some, Panem has become their no home, but not for everyone. There are many who will be returning back. Is it time to say goodbye?

*Psyche! the games didn't end and the worst came to worst. And that worst is...

Comments

[carnagecarnival]

The faltering is hard. He knows it is, he knows the feeling. But with it comes hope. It's a frightening thing, something he ain't sure won't destroy what's left of him, but he clings to it desperate.

He hears his name and his breath catches. He's not heard that voice say his name in a long time. He swallows hard.

games are over.
war is over.
safe here.
no strife.

By the time he's finished though, the Helmsman is laughing, and not in no way what's good. So he lets his message sit and he waits, with one hand stretched just a bit across the table. Just in case.

He peeks up in concern, then quickly drops his eyes back down. Just wait.

[biiowiired]

He wasn't here to fight. He wasn't here to pilot a ship or interface with technology. He could barely plot stars. What good was he? He went from laughing to shaking hands and heaving breaths.

"What do they want me for?" he begged hoarsely, forgetting his syntax again.

His eyes beseeched the one called Kurloz to stop being so damn cryptic. Just let him do whatever work was required of him, and he could rest assured he wouldn't be punished. Being "safe" simply meant being held in the capable hands of owners, and their temperaments were as fickle as Helmsman's moods (when he was allowed to have them).

[carnagecarnival]

He knows this panic. The fear that comes in having no task, in thinking surely, surely there was something, there had to be something to do, it was a trick, he had to... The way it swallowed whole, needing and wanting so bad just something to do. When one starts to hope drinks will be spilled and glass will shatter because then there's a job to do.

He can't look the Helmsman in the eye for lone. It's too hard. He tries but glances done so quick again it's hardly meaning anything.

He wishes so bad that he could help.

to heal.
to be okay.
to stop serving.
live.