Happy Hunger Games~

[Sheriff Jones]

As a celebration of our community’s first year, The Kingdom of Spades is hosting an event unparalleled by any other. The King and Queen humbly require the participation of one member from each of the active forums to act as contestants in a game of honor and courage. The competitor will be selected automatically, but if the other member wishes to volunteer, simply change the name penned to the new participate. The winner will be showered in riches and be permitted to return home as a hero.

Good luck to all and may the odds be ever in your favor. Happy Hunger Games~

The notice was hung on the inside of their front door. The paper was thick, obviously expensive, colored with a rich navy ink and a royal seal pressed against the bottom. It was like nothing he had ever seen in his life, let alone out here in the middle of the untamed west. He could not think of a single person who would have had the means to buy such an expensive item. And even if someone were skilled enough to break into the sheriffs home to plant it there, why waste their efforts by writing such nonsense? In all his years, he had never once heard of a ‘Kingdom of Spades’. If such a place existed, why would the royal family be in the least bit interested in a sheriff and his deputy? And for goodness sakes, what the heck was a ‘forum’?

Alfred’s head was spinning. “Stupid prank…” He grumbled as he ripped down the demented invitation. Just as he crumbled it up and turn to throw it away, another note, identical to the first, appeared. “What the--”

“It happened to me too.”

Alfred turned and caught sight of Arthur standing at the foot of the stairs, a cup of tea in his hands. “No matter how many times I pulled it down, another one took its place. Whatever magic is keeping it up, it’s there to stay.” The young sheriff watched as Arthur pushed off from the railing and crossed the room to where he stood. “I don’t suppose you have any idea of what this is all about, do you?” Alfred could only shake his head. “No, I supposed you wouldn’t.” Arthur leaned in closer, running his fingertips over the carefully penned words. “Permitted to return home… that’s what is awarded to the winner, but it doesn’t say anything about the losers. I wonder…” He went quiet for a long time and didn’t speak again until Alfred began gently tugging at his sleeve. “Yes luv?”

“What do you think this is?” Alfred asked, keeping a tight grip on the fabric of Arthur’s shirt. He did not like that faraway look in the other man’s eyes -- it usually meant bad times were ahead of them. But Arthur just smiled, kissed his cheek, before stepping away. “I would not worry about it right now. Come along, I will make you some of that vile coffee you like so much.”

Alfred hesitated, staring hard at the notice even as Arthur reached for his hand. Something bad was going to happen soon and he knew Arthur sensed it too. And as much as he would have liked to believe that the two of them could handle anything, he had a feeling that whatever was coming would not stop for anything. He gripped Arthur’s hand tightly, turned away from the notice and tried to enjoy this one moment of peace before it was altered forever.

* * *

When they had returned from the days ride, the invitation was gone. In its tead was only a scrap of thick cardstock and a single name scribbled on the front of it.

Arthur Kirkland

It read in bold, fancy cursive that he had only ever seen penned by Arthur’s own hand. But this was not Arthur’s doing. He could see it clearly on his deputy’s face, that quiet kind of confusion and acceptance that he had only ever seen one another time -- and frankly, it unnerved him.

“What do you think it means?” He asked, focusing his gaze on Arthur’s pale face. When he didn’t respond, Alfred slide his hand into Arthur’s, interlocking their fingers. “Arthur?”

“It means I am to be the competitor.”

Alfred stared hard at Arthur’s face and then back at the paper nailed to their wall. Although it was no longer posted, he could still see the invitation clear as day. Competitors from each forum (he supposed him and Arthur counted as whatever that meant) had to face each other. The winner would receive incredible riches and be allowed to come home. The losers however… “Arthur, this is a death match, isn’t it?” The pieces suddenly fit together in the most awful way possible. That’s why the losers were never mentioned in the invitation -- they would not live to see their homes again. And if Arthur was going, as strong as he was, there was a very real chance that he would never make it back to him.

“You’re not going.”

Arthur turned to the sheriff, confusion flickering over his face. “What are you…”

“You’re not going.” Alfred repeated, crossing over to their parlor desk to grab the pen and ink well. “I’ll take your place and when I get back, we’ll--”

“No!” Arthur grabbed for the pen, his eyes frantic. “Don’t you even think about taking my place!”

“Why not?! You think you can just leave me behind and go off to die?!” He kept the pen up high above Arthur’s reach, his jaw set and his eyes determined. “Not a chance in hell Arthur! I am not going to sit by and let this happen when there is still something I can do about it.”

“And you think I want to lose you either?!” Arthur touched a hand to his cheek. “Alfred, if it was a choice between me dying for you to live, I want you to live.”

For a moment, all they did was stare at one another. Then, slowly, Alfred let his hand drop. “I don’t want you to go Arthur… What if the worst happens and…” He couldn’t say it. Even the thought of being without the other had emptiness settle in the pit of his stomach.

“Luv?” A pair of soft lips pressed gently against his cheek. “I promise, I will do everything in my power to make sure that doesn’t happen. And you know me, I’m not one to give up so easily.” Arthur’s lips quirked up into that half smile that Alfred loved so much. And for that instant, he believed him.

He had seen firsthand how strong Arthur was. He how to handle dangerous situations and managed to come out on top every time. If there was one thing the Englishman knew how to do, it was cheat death.

Alfred knew all of this. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder, would it be enough this time? This game, whatever it entailed, was sure to be unlike anything the two of them had ever faced. And the magic which had brought the invitation into their lives in the first place was especially worrisome. What kind of otherworldly forces would Arthur have to face? And more importantly, how would he be able to fight something he didn’t understand? He felt doubt and fear begin to claw at his chest as every possible outcome flashed before his eyes. “Everything in your power?” He whispered, leaning into Arthur’s warm palm.

“Absolutely everything.”

Alfred returned the favor and rested his hand against Arthur’s cheek. “Thank you Arthur,” He leaned in, savoring the feeling of the other man’s chapped lips meeting his own one last time. “But I can’t let you.” Realization appeared in Arthur’s clear green eyes, but it was too late -- he had already made his move. One clean blow to the head was all it took. Alfred caught him just before he hit the ground. “I’m sorry… I am so, so sorry.”

* * *

By the time Arthur awoke again, it was dusk.

“Alfred?” He called as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. Ugh, his head was killing him. “Alfred? Alfred, can you put the kettle on? I have a splitting headache.” There was no response, which was rather odd considering the excitable American would usually come running when he heard him stir. He couldn’t still be out on patrol, could he? “Alfred?”

He slid out of bed cautiously and headed for the stairs. “If you think you can scare me again after the first hundred times, you have another thing coming! You know I can’t stand when you--” Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin when a loud booming sounded so suddenly, it reverberated in his very bones. He had dove for the ground when the noise faded away into applause. “What the…” He cautiously make his way down the stairs, a hand on his revolver and body tense for attack. But what he found waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, he wasn’t entirely sure how to describe.

A large black box sat on the coffee table with an odd reflective surface on the front. The flashes of crowds screaming and waving looked so realistic that for a moment, Arthur truly believed there were tiny people inside. “Hello?” As he went to touch the glass, the image changed again, this time to a familiar face. “Alfred!”

Alfred (at least, it certainly looked like Alfred) was sitting on a plush throne wearing robes of midnight blue that looked like they cost more then their entire house. Even more disturbing was the man sitting was sitting next to him. Arthur stared in shock as the focus shifted over to his counterpart. It was him -- right down to the fuzzy eyebrows. Before Arthur could recover from his shock, the Alfred onscreen stood and held up a hand to quiet the crowd.

“Welcome my friends to our celebrations~ I am sure you are all as excited to see who will be competing as I am!” The crowd went wild at that, but Alfred raised his hand once more to call them back. “I know, I know, but we must not scare them~ Remember, many of them are not used to all this finery.” Booming laughter sounded from the crowd and Alfred cracked a half smile. “So, without further ado, let us welcome the contestants of the first annual Hunger Games!”

The applause was deafening this time as the camera panned over to the wide paved street cutting through the center of the crowd. One by one, they appeared. As the camera focused in on each of their faces, Arthur’s knees went weak. Every single man that appeared looked identical to either himself or Alfred -- the only differences between them were the outfits they wore. The final blow was delivered when he caught sight of his Alfred. He was decked out in a ridiculously scanty cowboy outfit and hat, looking more like a common prostitute then the strong sheriff he knew. Arthur grabbed for the box, yanking it closer as the angle shifted to Alfred’s face. His beautiful blue eyes were alight with fear.

The focus shifted back to the Alfred onstage. He looked so sickeningly happy that it made Arthur shiver. “Now that you’ve seen them, what do you think?!” Arthur looked away as the crowd began screaming with approval. He could scarcely take it. Didn’t they realize what was happening?! These men were being sent to their deaths and they celebrated that?! He clung desperately to the edge of the table, growing more nauseous with each passing minute. The imposter Alfred (his Alfred could never be so heartless) simply grinned. “This contest is the ultimate test of true strength, survival, and honor. Tomorrow, we shall see how each of our contestants fare given their wide variety of talents~ I can guarantee one thing my friends -- it will be a show like none other. And to our contestants, I personally wish you all the best and may the odds be ever in your favor.” The two monarchs stood and waved to the crowd as the competitors were sent back down the street. Arthur watched until the last man exited before collapsing.

Alfred was gone. Alfred took his place. Alfred was going to have to fight for his life to make it back to him. Tomorrow the games started. Alfred, his sweet, stupid Alfred, was very likely going to die. And what was worse, he was going to have to watch it happen.

“No, no, no, no, no!” He screamed, throwing anything close enough to reach at the walls enclosing him. “You weren’t supposed to sacrifice yourself for me! You damnable idiot!” Hot tears rolled down his face, but he continued to scream. It was only until after he had cried all his tears and screamed himself raw that he was able to find any peace that night. As he slept on the hardwood floor of their shared home, the black box gave off a haunting bluish glow that would color his nightmares for the rest of his days.

[Sheriff Jones]

The Hunger Games Contestants:
Disclaimer: I flipped a coin to see who would be selected for this -- that is the only reason these people have been picked.
*Contestants
**Careers (or who I think would be Careers)

**1. Mister* and Assi
**2. Kirk* and Fabio
3. StuPres and QB*
4. Angie* and Lenny
5. Preffy and Dory*
6. Witchy* and Farmy
7. Fuzzy* and Poofy
8. Crocky and Sherry*
9. Damsey and Enrique*
10. Bunn and Torry*
11. Ripster* and Prostie


Also, I have very little idea of where I am going with this. Any advice, critiques, or whatever would be appreciated. Have at it my friends.

[Ghost]

Hey, I'm here to give some help XD

Well, first you can decide their playing style. If you read the books, you remember how each contestant presented themselves - Foxface did sly and manipulative, Johanna (or was it Joanna?) did weakling. So maybe Fuzzy will lay the seductive charm full force and Dory can appear cool, calm and mysterious. (probably unintentionally, but lets ignore that). There's the rating thing too, the 1 to 12 rating, if you want to push that in. Remember that probably not everyone will showcase their strengths immediately, but the Careers (and whoever they want to join them) usually shows it here.

Got that down? Good. Next is who dies in the initial bloodbath. Those who aren't strong enough, aren't fast enough, aren't smart enough or simply that unlucky dies here. This majorly plays on how you write contestants above. Maybe you can kill someone who everyone expects will live, maybe you can let someone who everyone think was weak escape. I dunno, up to you.

After that are the alliances. There's the career alliance (Mister+Kirk+godknowswho), and probably some other alliances that are left with the stragglers. Some might just go solo.

Well, that's all I can give for now 8D I hope you come up with something soon!

[Predatory Alfred]

Sherry I am still in love with you for filling this because it is absolutely lovely <3 But anywho, I thought I'd give you something as well, probably not as long as Witchy's but just some things to consider?

Witchy's were all good points to play into as they are vital to how these games will play out, but there's something else as well. Perhaps think about the actual playing field itself. I know in the books it said they were subject to change each year, once a desert and in the actual book it seemed more of a forest/valley. This of the strengths it can give a particular player, negatives for others. For instance a wooded area wood definitely suit Torry considering that's where he's lived, a prairie/more desert-y setting for Sherry, or you can go along the lines of urban jungle in which I'm sure Ripster or Mister would be good with, and so forth.

Perhaps it's just me, and you don't have to do this, but I would love some change in perspectives. How some of the contestants are reacting to this, I mean Dory is just a 15 year old boy, magic or not that's a terrifying thing to be thrown into, as well as QB. Other things like adjusting to the lavish care and such before the games, who talks to who or if anyone's stony faced and doesn't utter a word. Any thoughts of rebelling, and so forth.

I hope this helps ;u; Sherry, you're so so wonderful, so thank for this lovely beginning here. I'm satisfied with just this. I really am enjoying it.

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