Alright, here we are. Let the stalkers stalk and the games begin!

I'll make a bio format for you so your hands don't hurt, ya know, arthritis and carpal tunnel and that crap.

Name:

Age:

Gender:

District:

Token:

Personality:

Appearance:

History:

Other:

Alright, and here's my bio.

Name: Trace Carlin

Age: 14

Gender: Female

District: 3

Token: A ring with a clockwork design.

Personality: I'll rp that out.

Appearance: She has dark brown hair that is only down to her ears, and large hazel eyes. She has some slight freckles and pale skin, and her cheeks are almost always rosy.

History: Her mother was taken from her by a peacekeeper when she was younger.

Other: Nothing else I have to say.

Name: Jake West

Age: 16

Gender: Male

District: 7

Token: A tle="" target="_blank">bear claw necklace {On the right}

and a tle="" target="_blank">Twilight Wolf Filgaree Copper Bracelet {Also to the right}

Personality:

Jake is a calm person, he loves a good action seen here and their, along with violence, but it doesn't have to be their all the time.. 

Wip

Appearance:

History:

Jake was taken from his home in Tennassee and brought to the unknown destanation, where he has lived with his new parents and one brother and one sister. His brother was taken into the Hunger Games, where he was shot wish a bow, and killed. Along with his sister, she was killed, not by a bow and arrow, but by a knife....

Other:

None

(I can't quit crying.)(By choosing arena you mean the Reaping?)

Trace stood silently among the other fourteen year olds in the girls' line. Although her chances were slim, she couldn't help but feel frightened. She might never return to her home again. Upon looking at the sky filled with smoke of the factories, she thought of the Hunger Games that took place the last year. District 3 hadn't won, the girl was killed in the blood bath and the boy blown to bits by a landmine. Trace shook her head, feeling a painful twist in her brain. Reaping jitters is what she called it, and she felt as if she weren't the only one who had them. Possibly another child, be they twelve to eighteen, was feeling the same way. All she knew was that she wasn't going to have a bright future, reaped or not. She watched a man walk up to the podium, say a few words after the anthem of Panem, then move towards the girls' podium...

(It's freaking Celtic Woman. I went to a performance in Spokane, I couldn't see or hear anything cause my mom wanted to sit on the stupid balcony.)

Trace froze like ice. With the ashes burning her skin and electricity humming through the ground, she was cold. Out of the man's face came the name 'Trace Carlin'. She made a strange squeaking noise, the way she did when completely and utterly terrified. She walked through the crowd, which had cleared a path for her, and joined the man on stage. He held up her arm as if she had won an award, but she hadn't. She only had won death. After calling out the male for district 3, the peacekeepers shoved her into the justice building. She was dropped in the visitors' room, forced to sit on the old leather couch. The only people who visited her were her father and brother, since the people in district 3 didn't often socialise. Trace buried her head in her hands with her father beside her and brother before her.

Trace sat the same way for a few minutes until a peacekeeper just had to barge in and ruin the moment. "Time's up. Get out." Trace watched her family leave, then she herself was pushed out to the train. She was supposed to be boarding that train with the district 7 tributes, and also with her pompous mentor. She boarded the train, avoiding as many cameras as possible. When she was out of sight of the people outside, she sat down on the couch where she was supposed to meet the district 7's.

Trace made another squeaking noise as the district 7 boy came in. She could tell by the way he moved that he was much older than she was, but only by two years. Trace saw him draw his eyes toward the district 7 door. "It's locked." Stupid Trace! Why! She stood up and jiggled the handle to cover her outburst. "Don't worry, I can pick it." She took a quick look around the train, then took a copper wire and hanger out of her pockets. She hung the copper wire on the handle, then worked at straightening the hanger. For someone so thin and small, she was strong. She placed the copper and hanger into the lock, and twisted them until she could hear a clicking sound. She glanced up at the 7 tribute, then shook the lock as hard as she could. She straightened up, and opened the door.

Trace shook her head. "No, not like the district 2 tributes. It's like they want to die. When they called my name... I could barely move. The capitol doesn't even care whether or not we want to be sent in the arena against 23 other tributes. They only care about themselves." She shook her head, staring at the floor. "Are you?"