The Gamemakers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thearena2012-11-10 10:49 am
gamemakers) wrote in thearena2012-11-10 10:49 am
ARENA 04-Decay
For some this is starting to be routine. For some it is new, and little is done to ease them into it. The peacekeepers are never warm on these flights, but they are rougher, quieter today, and after having their tracking devices inserted or reactivated, the tributes don't see them until they are lead to small, metal rooms.
They are dressed quietly by their stylist, and the stylist move quicker this time, dressing them in heavy cargo pants, boots, thick socks, an undershirt and sweater. A light, plastic jacket is laid over the top, with a hood and plenty of pockets.
They are lead to tubes, with a reminder not to leave the pedestal. The tubes are metal this time, thick, the door sliding closed over them and leaving the tributes in the small, dark area. Entombed until they start the smooth rise to the surface.
25 - 24 - 23
Rising to the surfaces, they can see before them a building, ravished by time but still standing. Behind it, cliffs fall to the ocean, glittering in the sun for miles and miles, a dark blue distance that offers no escape. Behind them, the last trails of fog lead into a forest, still spotted with the lingering remains of the buildings that had once stood there. The air is cool, crisp, and the warmth of the sweater can be appreciated quickly.
20 - 19 - 18 - 17 - 16
One wall of the building before them is gone, exposing deep into the building's heart. There, about 50 yards into the ruins, lies the cornucopia. It's weapons and supplies are scattered among the ruins, dropped haphazardly among crumbling walls and exposed rebar.
11- 10 - 9 - 8
Warned not to move from their pedestals, they are given the last 10 seconds to plans their attack.
5
4
3
2
The gong sounds, clear in the crisp air. Let the games begin.
[OOC: Check here if your character ran for the cornucopia to see your results. Post here to play those out.
Characters on reserve have until Wednesday, Nov 14th to be eligible to tag into this arena and this post, but anyone who did not sign up for the Cornucopia will be handwaved as having not not been part of the Cornucopia battle.]
They are dressed quietly by their stylist, and the stylist move quicker this time, dressing them in heavy cargo pants, boots, thick socks, an undershirt and sweater. A light, plastic jacket is laid over the top, with a hood and plenty of pockets.
They are lead to tubes, with a reminder not to leave the pedestal. The tubes are metal this time, thick, the door sliding closed over them and leaving the tributes in the small, dark area. Entombed until they start the smooth rise to the surface.
25 - 24 - 23
Rising to the surfaces, they can see before them a building, ravished by time but still standing. Behind it, cliffs fall to the ocean, glittering in the sun for miles and miles, a dark blue distance that offers no escape. Behind them, the last trails of fog lead into a forest, still spotted with the lingering remains of the buildings that had once stood there. The air is cool, crisp, and the warmth of the sweater can be appreciated quickly.
20 - 19 - 18 - 17 - 16
One wall of the building before them is gone, exposing deep into the building's heart. There, about 50 yards into the ruins, lies the cornucopia. It's weapons and supplies are scattered among the ruins, dropped haphazardly among crumbling walls and exposed rebar.
11- 10 - 9 - 8
Warned not to move from their pedestals, they are given the last 10 seconds to plans their attack.
5
4
3
2
The gong sounds, clear in the crisp air. Let the games begin.
[OOC: Check here if your character ran for the cornucopia to see your results. Post here to play those out.
Characters on reserve have until Wednesday, Nov 14th to be eligible to tag into this arena and this post, but anyone who did not sign up for the Cornucopia will be handwaved as having not not been part of the Cornucopia battle.]
CORNUCOPIA
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He hadn't experienced much of the islands past what he caught on the television screens. The memory of why makes him focus hard on the Cornucopia before him, and then on the tributes that surround it. A good mix of familiar faces and complete strangers. He's been up against worse odds before, and that wind is cold and this place is going to suck if he doesn't have something to help keep him alive.
...3... 2... 1
He's suddenly wishing that maybe he'd spent a bit more time on a treadmill than at the bar, but its too late now. Straight ahead, Tony spies a bag he thinks he can get a hand on before anyone else can even get close.
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And yet. And yet.
10
9
8
7
Something...something felt different about this Arena, almost the minute he came up the tube and moreso as he looked around. And it wasn't because of the fact it was just a different climate or environment (though he was thankful for the extra protection, to be sure). No. It was something in his gut. It was instinct. It was warning him.
Something was off about this Arena.
6
5
4
"Instinct is your sixth sense. And when you feel it, you must never ignore it. Always be aware of everything around you; follow what your instinct believes must be done!"
I know, Master Splinter.
Don always used his instinct - primarily for intuitive, scientific reasons. But this feeling was more animal than reason. It was a deep, primal feeling of wrong that he'd not felt in...well, a long time. This Arena unnerved him. Even the Cornucopia looked and felt wrong. Haphazard, scattered, unorganized within the ruin and waste. Not like it normally was, where it had some kind of pattern. It was weird and wrong and something was just not right.
But it had his lifeline in there. This time, he had to go for it.
3
2
He spotted a bag next to a pile of twisted metal. It was a little out of the way of the better spoils and weaponry. But, Don decided, that bad would be a start.
It had to be.
1
The gong sounded, and the turtle was off his pedastal, his feel pounding into the thistle and concrete as he ran towards his target.
incredibly late tag you don't need to feel obligated to respond to xp
He settled for the spear, but he was going to mark that spiky-haired kid for later, when there weren't dozens of other people around being distracting. For now, he hefted his new toy -- not really his weapon, but then, everything was his weapon -- and sprinted for a bag, first one in his sight, and it was a measure of his focus that he didn't even notice the giant turtle until it was pulling up ahead of him, heading in the same direction.
He frowned slightly, flipped the spear lightly in one hand, and swept it out in an arcing motion, some morbid desire to see what would happen if he got this fellow stuck on it's back inspiring to try a less lethal move.
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More water. More sand.
His eyes scanned the distant, blue horizon, a litany of curses whispering over his lips.
10, 9, 8, 7....
He turned his attention to the Cornucopia and its treasures, then other tributes. Then, glancing over his shoulder, he saw it.
The prettiest site he'd seen in this strange, future hell.
Trees. A forest.
One that looked, for all intents, like one he'd have come across back home.
6, 5, 4....
Yes'ir, he could make that work.
He turned back to the Cornucopia, face set with grim determination.
He was going to make it to those trees.
3, 2, 1.
The gong sounded and he sprang forward, hitting the ground at a dead run.
There was a bag dead ahead. He could make it.
And then he would be gone.
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No one else mattered. He'd tear through them all. He'd win this, be free of the cycle, and kill anyone who got in his way from there. He'd return home and finish what he'd started.
But first thing was first. He had to survive better than he had the first time.
Supplies. Weapons. It was clear from the first arena he'd been in, that he was far superior than most in combat. So supplies it was.
He made a dash for a bag close by, ignoring if anyone else was going for the same bag.
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It wasn't gonna make relations back in the 10 suite anymore more comfortable, but so be it, as soon as Wyatt got his hand on the bag - just seconds ahead of the other man - he jerked it up, and swung it out by the strap, aiming at Susuke's head in hopes of pushing him back and giving himelf time to make a quick, bloodless, escape.
Re: CORNUCOPIA
3 ... 2 ... 1 ...
The moment the gong sounded, Alex sprang toward the first bag.
Re: CORNUCOPIA
25 - 24 - 23
Pushing the thought aside momentarily, he locates the Cornucopia within the ruins of the largest building ahead of them, taking in the items it holds. The items farther out from it.
20 - 19 - 18 - 17 - 16
That accomplished, his eyes sweep what can be seen of the arena. Cliff. Ocean. Forest. He's formed an order of operation for taking in arena information, you see. Cornucopia location, arena surroundings, tributes.
11- 10 - 9 - 8
He uses the remaining few seconds to scan the circle of tributes around him. Some are new. Some are old. And some are conspicuously missing from this arena.
But there's no time to dwell on that now.
5
4
3
2
He's off his pedestal as soon as the gong sounds. Unfortunately for Alex, Grey has his eyes on the very same bag as he. And he has no intention of giving it up. As soon as the scientist sees what Alex is going for, the larger man drops a shoulder to slam Alex aside.
sorry for the delay
No prob.
ATTN: Anna Morasca! :)
So this time, when she saw the wind-ravaged building with its supplies strewn everywhere, she braced herself, eyes flicking over the supplies. Big weapons. Useless weapons. Lots of bags of unknown quantity, but even just a bag could be useful. That was about it, though-- until she spotted the bow and the quiver of arrows right beside it. Then she knew where she was going first.
As soon as the gong sounded, she leaped out and bolted across the field. She jumped over the bags in her way and dove for the weapons, tail flailing wildly to keep her balance.
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...10... 9... 8...
While most people are probably focusing on their first move by this point, Anna's glancing around for Dean - who is the closest thing to a friend that she has now, and tipping her head toward the forest in hopes that he'll see her and get that she wants to meet up in the forest. The structural integrity of the ruins is questionable at best, and she thinks the probability of survival is higher out where there might be access to water.
...5... 4... 3...
Scanning the scattered items around the Cornucopia that she can make out, she spots a bow and full quill of arrows and makes up her mind that it's her first stop.
...2... 1
And she's off in a full sprint for the weapon of choice, but as she starts closing in and dodging attacks from other Tributes, she notices a strange-looking creature making the same beeline for the weapon.
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Stupid human girl. Or whatever she was. Neeshka was way faster than that. She ducked around someone coming towards her, stuck out her tail to wrap around that Tribute's ankle, and dropped them with a well-placed tug.
The Tribute went down right in Anna's path.
((that's an NPC tribute of some sort :B ))
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Eliot gave his brother a last brief glance and shook his head. He turned his gaze back to the Cornucopia, eyeing what he'd aim for.
3, 2, 1, 0.
His feet left the ground as soon as the countdown ended, charging in toward the supplies and weapons. The machete would be his best option and he ran toward it, pausing briefly to grab a bag.
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At least until he got his hands on a real weapon.
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By then Eliot was past her and gone. Thank the gods. Time to scram, herself: one of the bigger Tributes was headed her way, and she didn't want to see what he was going to do to her. She made like a rabbit for the trees, herself.
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