the-fandom-games-blog

[the-fandom-games-blog]

If you've been wondering, we are on a hiatus.

Both President Casey and Gamemaker Tapix (that's me!) have AP exams and a bunch of other ridiculousness going on in their lives at them moment. We apologize if this inconveniences any of you.

We will get this back up and running when the school year is over. In the meantime, submissions of ships are open to all of the fandoms. I repeat, GO AHEAD AND SUBMIT SHIPS FOR ANY FANDOM YOU WANT (although please specify the fandom if you could be so kind C:).

We will resume the reapings and such as soon as we can.

Happy Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor. :)

-Head Gamemaker Tapix 

[the-fandom-games-blog]

Just a reminder:

The mentor ship for Avengers is Loki/Thor, and the volunteer ship will be Steve/Tony. That means all four of them are off limits to nominations. ;)

-President Casey

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Nominations for District 5 (The Avengers) open at midnight tonight!

We will still be accepting nominations for Sherlock and for Glee.

The names of the characters are unique enough that there shouldn't be much confusion, but if you think there will be please include the fandom name as well.

Note to Gamemaker Tapix, Pocket, and whatever other staff is reading this: feel free to start writing the Sherlock and Glee reaping posts. I'm writing the Supernatural holding post tomorrow evening.

-President Casey

[the-fandom-games-blog]

The wind blows softly through the crowd.

President Casey sits up in her chair on the stage, impatiently fidgeting. She picks a piece of lint off of her rainbow pantsuit. She hates this part of the reaping. In fact, she hates that she is even forced to participate in the reaping. But, staff is short in the capitol, and things need to get done. She sighs, observing the crowd. The waiting for the other fandoms to catch up is the worst. Standing there, watching families and friends saying goodbye and couples standing around, awkwardly holding hands. Then there are the secret couples. The ones who stand on opposite sides of the crowd, drawing looks from passerby wondering why they are in the couples area. It is all sickening.

She glances next to her. Chuck Shurley meets her eyes briefly. He gives her an awkward half smile and then averts his eyes. Chuck is the mayor of this sad, sad district. President Casey smirks. This year he is dressed in a white suit. It is certainly better than the bathrobe he wore several years ago when he had shown up drunk. And it is definitely better than the year he tried to deny his own existence by not showing up at all. That was an awkward year. President Casey then looks to the front of the stage. The local mentor ship, Bobby Singer and Crowley, is standing just offstage, talking to two couples. Well, Bobby is talking two men, a tall one with dark hair, and a bulky one with lighter hair. Their partners are standing awkwardly behind them, avoiding each others’ eyes. President Casey leans forward slightly, straining to catch an inkling of the conversation.

“No, you listen to me. If either of you idjits volunteers, I will personally wring your necks. Do you understand me?”

“We won’t, Bobby. Jeeze.”

“We know, Bobby. Calm down.”

Ah, so these are the famous Winchester brothers. She remembers Bobby and Crowley’s games, how Bobby cited these two in his interview as his reason to fight to get back. Their reunion made for great television that year. Very entertaining, and according to critics, very heart wrenching.

Just then, President Casey’s phone buzzes. She quickly pulls it out and unlocks the screen. She taps several times to open a text from Pocket.

District One Tributes selected and in holding. Will stay until transfer to train and then I’m off to District Ten.

President Casey grins. She looked to Chuck. “Our turn!” Chuck coughs awkwardly, and gets up to move to the microphone.

President Casey stands and crosses the stage. She kneels down and gingerly taps on Bobby and Crowley’s shoulders. They jump. “Alright, boys. Say goodbye to your friends. Time to get this show on the road.”

Crowley glances at the two men who are still avoiding his eyes, mumbles something, and then climbs up on stage. Bobby pulls his boys into a tight hug. He releases them, coughes awkwardly, and then is helped onto the stage by Crowley. President Casey walks just behind them as they all return to their seats.

Chuck clears his throat. The crowd falls silent. “Uh, hello everyone. Well, we all know why we’re here. Four of you get to become our tributes for the annual Fandom Games. We have our previous victors, Misters Singer and Crowley.” He pauses. There is an awkward round of applause that stops almost as quickly as it starts. Crowley gave a small wave.

Chuck continues. “This year, we have the honor of our capitol representative being President Casey herself. I’ll just pass the microphone duties off to her now.” He turned to move, and then turned back to add, “Good luck to you all.” After glancing through the crowd to meet eyes with some familiar couples, he scurries back to his seat.

President Casey stands and walks up, rolling her eyes at the awkward introduction. She glues a smile on her face the moment she reaches the microphone. “Good morning everyone. Welcome to the District Two Reaping for the 13th Fandom Games. May the odds be ever in your favor!”

There are a few scattered claps, mostly out of sarcasm.

“Well, without further adieu, let’s pick our first couple!” She walks over to the great black bowl, and reaches her hand in. She picks up the first slip that touches her fingers. Her clicking heels can be heard by everyone as she walks back to the microphone and unfolds the paper. “Lisa and Matt!”

There’s muttering through the crowd as a couple from the back begins to move forward.

“We volunteer!” President Casey moves her eyes from the now frozen couple in the back to the bulky man half running towards the stage, a man in a trench coat tailing him.

“We have a volunteer!” Her smile widens as she hears Bobby audibly growl behind her. The two men come on stage. “What are your names?”

She shoves the microphone in the trench coated man’s face. He grimaces before responding. “Castiel and Dean Winchester.”

“Oh, so you took his name, then?”

“We’re not-”

“She’s joking, Cas.” Dean puts a hand on Cas’ shoulder, and forces one note of a laugh before he looks back out at the crowd. His face contorts in determination and anger, and he starts mouthing words to someone. President Casey follows his gaze to the tall man from earlier. His brother. She glances behind her. Bobby is alternating between glaring at Dean, and glaring at his brother. Both Dean and Bobby appear to be conveying that the man should not volunteer. ‘My, isn’t this interesting.’

Through with meddling, President Casey turns back to the crowd. “Let’s have a round of applause for these lovely volunteers!” Approximately a third of the crowd claps a few times before falling back into silence. “And now, for our second couple!”

This time, she digs around in the bowl for several seconds, playing up the drama and praying to whatever god would listen that she picks the slip with the tall man’s name on it. She happened to glance back at Chuck, and twiddled the fingers of her free hand when she saw he was glaring. She finally picks a slip and walks slowly back to the podium, the click of her heels ringing out again. She is severely disappointed when she opens it. She forces a smile and announces with limited enthusiasm, “Becky and Rachel.”

The lesbian couple in the middle of the crowd barely has time to react before a deep voice yells out, “We volunteer as tribute!”

President Casey silently cheers as the tall man walks purposefully towards the stage, dragging a much shorter man by the arm and pointedly avoiding the eyes of Dean and Bobby. Bobby stands and begins yelling, making a racket as his chair falls over. He is held back by Crowley and Chuck (though Chuck was unnecessary), and eventually pulled back into his seat. Tears are freely running down his face.

“And your names?” President Casey puts the microphone in the tall man’s face. He sighs. “Sam Winchester and Gabriel.”

President Casey grins wickedly, looking between Sam and Dean. “Oh my, are you two brothers?” They don’t respond. “Well, this is a pickle, isn’t it?” When nobody responds, she turns back to the crowd.

“Well, thank you all for coming! Tributes, mentors, please report next door for holding.” She strides off the stage and watches as the six men walk into the motel room that is being used for holding. She watches the door close, and can actually hear Bobby’s muffled yelling. She laughs to herself as she walks to her transportation. Maybe this year’s Fandom Games will be interesting after all.

[the-fandom-games-blog]

There aren't many Sherlock characters left.... I fully understand the rules, but just saying. Except for 1-episode people, it's a pretty small cast.

One-episode characters are fine! Particularly because this is a career district, I'm actually expecting crack pairings. Forget what school told you. Crack is not wack. Crack is a beautiful thing. Crack is the splash of strawberry syrup in your lemonade. Crack is the shining light in the black hole of emotions that writers (coughmoffatcough) like to leave their fandoms in.

I do understand, though. Sherlock is a hard fandom to come up with crack ships for with minor characters for. 6 episodes is not enough to produce adequate shipping. Honestly, I was more vying for Supernatural nominations. There is so much minor character crack in that fandom, I'm almost ashamed that nobody submitted anything.

-President Casey

[the-fandom-games-blog]

There has been a slight change to the rules.

You may submit as many nominations as you want every day. Fill the inbox with your OTPs, my loves.

Also, you may continue to submit Sherlock and Supernatural ships until their reaping post has been made. We did not receive any legitimate nominations for either fandom.

On that note, be reminded that your ships cannot contain any of the following characters: Moriarty, Molly, John, Sherlock, Lestrade, Mycroft (from Sherlock), Bobby, Crowley, Sam, Dean, Castiel, Gabriel (from Supernatural), Will, Emma, Rachel, or Quinn (from Glee). While I understand that in real life, these people are shipped with multiple people, for the logistics of the games it would not make sense if they were somehow reaped twice. We already have a time paradox, we don't need clones running around too.

-President Casey

[the-fandom-games-blog]

BTW, guys.

Glee is open until midnight tomorrow.

I actually legitimately need a second ship. If I don't get nominations, I will put some random crack ship in. I will honestly assign every character a random number, and use a random number generator to make a ship. And you will have to deal with that ship until they die in the games.

This is not a threat. It is a promise.

-President Casey

[the-fandom-games-blog]

“Well then!” The four tributes jump to varying heights as the Master steps into their waiting room on the TARDIS. “Did we all say our goodbyes? Very teary, I hope. Not a good parting if there isn’t a bit of lubrica—“

“Whoa there, watch what you say,” another voice sounds from behind him, and the Doctor pops his head into the doorway. “You’ve got a 51st century omnisexual in the room, remember.”

“Why do you always pick on me, Doctor?” Jack whines good-naturedly, sitting on a couch with Ianto. “I didn’t even say anything this time!”

“This time?” Ianto snorts.

“Shush, don’t encourage him,” Jack shoots back.

“Alright, alright, enough, you two!” Amy yells from the other couch. “I’d like to talk to our mentors, now.”

The Doctor winces. “Ooh, please don’t start calling me that. That’s weird.”

Amy rolls her eyes. “Sorry. Can we focus, though?”

“Right!” The Doctor claps his hands together, a look of happy anticipation on his face. “Battle plans!”

“Yes, because you’re so very good at making those, Doctor,” Rory snipes.

“Hey, don’t diss the plans!” The Doctor says in mock offense. “Most of them work.” He straightens his bowtie self-consciously.

“Key word: most.” The Master grins as the Doctor shoots him a look. “It’s true, though, you can’t make good plans. I always find a way to ruin them.”

“Yes, which means they aren’t foolproof, I get your point,” the Doctor mumbles (ignoring the Master’s indignant yell of “I caught that!”), “So what should we do, really? What are your strengths, weaknesses, other things that may apply to you not getting killed?”

“Well,” Jack says, “you already know my main one...”

“Jack, we’re not talking about beds—“ Ianto earns a soft slap to the side of the head for that one.

“You know what I mean!” Jack yells, laughing.

“I think you already know all of those, Doctor,” Amy says lowly, in all seriousness. “You have been around us for a long while.”

“Yes, well, that’s just from my point of view, isn’t it? I want to hear your side—“

“Doctor, stop fretting, you’re giving me a headache, and you know I don't need that,” the Master says, massaging his temples. “We’ve been training these four for years now. I think they know what they’re doing.” He glances at Jack. “Well, most of them.” Jack just sticks his tongue out at him. They banter on like this for a short while longer before settling into their seats and finally discussing battle strategy for the rest of the time, until it is time to go to the train.

(Back -- Next)

[the-fandom-games-blog]

The air is tense.

One can almost see it. The entire district has gone quiet, and even the birds have stopped with their chirping…assuming that there are birds here; everything seems to be a mishmash of planets surrounding what has to be twenty-first century London, in the center of which a blue police box stands. It is around this out-of-place contraption that the people of this district are gathered, to catch a glimpse of those who will go on to kill each other and god knows whom else.

It is the day of the District 1 Reaping.

The citizens are divided into two distinct groups: those who have trained their whole lives for this moment, and those who are there because they have to be. The latter are in smaller crowds, depending on whether they are actually part of the proper age group or not (this basically excludes the children under 18 and the very elderly). Those who are more likely to be chosen stand near the front and sides, while the rest huddle in the back, hoping they will not be singled out. Everyone, however, is united in their anticipating stares at the stage set up before the TARDIS doors, and the giant, blue-colored, translucent bowl sitting to the side of the gaudy microphone.

It is only a few minutes later that the mayor of the district, one Dorium Maldovar, his skin as blue as the machine he just stepped out of. He steps up rather nervously to the microphone.

“As we all know, today is a g-great day,” he stutters, “for all of us. Four of you will have the great honor of becoming this year’s tributes in this year’s Fandom Games.” He stops, as if expecting applause, and when none comes readily, he continues. “We have had two victors in the past, seen onstage.” He motions to his right, where two chairs are set up, holding the previous players, the Doctor (in his eleventh generation) and the Master (in his generation that was known to the world as “Harold Saxon”), who are deep in an obviously complex conversation. They don’t look up, and Maldovar moves on. “And now, introducing the one, the only – Capitol Representative, Pocket!”

A young woman walks out onto the stage with much accentuated flair, to a loud applause. Her hair is short and black.  She wears a pair of black jeans along with a rainbow-colored blouse – the symbol of the Capitol, Tumblr. It is actually quite hard to tell if she is female or male on first glance, but she is very well-known, having been the Rep for five years. She takes hold of the microphone in one slim hand.

“Welcome all to the District One Reaping for this year’s 13th Annual Fandom Games!” she states in a cheery voice. “And may the odds be ever in your favor.” She proceeds to talk animatedly about how honored she is to still be in this spot for so long, ever since her appointment at the early age of twenty. She really does seem to enjoy her job. “So with that, let’s get on to the selection of which one of our fine couples here today will be competing!”

Pocket reaches into the glass bowl on her left. She rummages around for a while, making a good show of it, and grabs a slip of paper in her fingers. Drawing it from the blue sphere, she walks back over to the microphone and opens it up.

“Mickey/Martha!” she calls loudly. Two people in the front of the crowd jump in shock and stare up at her. They glance at each other fearfully and grab each others’ hands, getting ready to step out of the crowd, when –

“We volunteer!”

The dark-skinned couple visibly sags with relief, pulling into an embrace as the volunteer ship walks up to the stage.

“Ah, yes, the volunteers,” Pocket smiles, and asks them their names. “Rory Williams and Amy Pond? Well then. We have one tribute ship! Let us welcome them!” There is a large round of applause, mostly from relief. Pocket waits a few moments, then calms it down. She grins mysteriously. “And now for the other.” She walks to the bowl again and grabs a paper with much less flair. “River/Nixon!”

Richard Nixon looks up from his spot in horror. He’s almost too old for these games – why would they pick him? He stares at River, who merely taps the side of her lips and smiles mischievously. Wait for it, she mouths at him.

“We volunteer,” a second couple calls out from the first group of citizens. “And might I say,” Jack Harkness says as he strides onto the stage, Ianto Jones in tow, “That you are looking lovely this afternoon, Miss Pocket.” Ianto gives him a look, which Jack ignores.

Pocket just rolls her eyes at Jack’s playful flirting and turns back to the microphone one last time. “We have our tributes!” she says jovially. There is applause again, and the two couples shake hands with each other. The Doctor Who theme song follows and everyone moves off to their separate lives, leaving the tributes to say their goodbyes and meet their mentors.

(You're at the beginning, silly -- Next)

[the-fandom-games-blog]

I again apologize for the lack of posts.

The reaping for District 1 is written and will be posted sometime tomorrow. District 2 will also be written and posted tomorrow.

Submissions for District 3 (Supernatural) tributes are now being accepted! I implore you to submit your favorite ships. Sam, Gabriel, Dean, and Castiel need people that they care about to volunteer for!

-President Casey

[the-fandom-games-blog]

Clarifying question: if a character is listed among the 'mentors', then they obviously can't be included in a tribute submission, right?

Correct.

[the-fandom-games-blog]

I apologize for the brief interruption in posting.

Gamemaker Tapix and I had a night and day of evil plotting together with one of our dear friends.

The askbox was open for the past day for Sherlock nominations, but no asks were sent. Thus, I will be accepting nominations until the countdown timer for the start of Supernatural nominations runs out.

The reaping posts will be made as soon as I can find a spare second that's not taken up by school work paper work. I thank you for your patience.

-President Casey

[the-fandom-games-blog]

Welp, only one nomination came in.

I'll just have to see what I can do with this.

I am going to get a good night's rest, and I suggest you all do the same. The first reaping will be written and posted when I wake in several hours!

-President Casey

[the-fandom-games-blog]

30 minutes?

Come on, submit those crack ships. I honestly don't care how many times you submit things at this point. Fill the ask box.

-President Casey

[the-fandom-games-blog]

Three hours remaining, and only one ship nominated?

-clicks tongue-

And I thought the Doctor Who fandom was active...

[the-fandom-games-blog]

Just a last-minute reminder, Whovians:

None of the ships you send can include The Doctor or the Master, nor can they conflict with the pairings of Rory/Amy or Jack/Ianto. Go crazy, and if you want a plot where one of those ships happens to have been chosen, go ahead and submit it. That's up to you. But don't conflict with it, and I prefer crack at this point! :D

THE ASK BOX IS OFFICIALLY OPEN. LET THE GAMES BEGIN.

[the-fandom-games-blog]

The Story

Five years ago, Tumblr rose from the ashes of Myspace to sit on it's throne next to it's neighboring kingdom of Facebook. However, it did not immediate reach it. In the beginning, thousands upon thousands of fans began migrating to this land from desolate, brutal lands such as Deviantart. These first fans saw the potential in this desolate space, and brought to it their own light. They brought the fandoms. Gradually, as Tumblr's numbers grew and the other websites' sank, we became a shining haven. Tumblr became the internet's jewel city, a shining star surrounded by the dozens of Districts of the fandoms we worship.

But, all was not well. There was a Dark Age. Fans began disturbing the peace brought within this haven. They began the fandom wars that many citizens of tumblr had given and arm and a leg to escape. Homestuck and Hetalia fought brutally between themselves, among their own kind, and among those not involved. They were banished, along with all but twelve of the other districts. The Fandom Games were formed as a reminder of the Dark Days. Every year, each of the twelve must give two tribute ships. They are taken to an arena and fight to the death in an all too real symbolic reminder of what shipping wars really are.