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thearena2014-05-17 03:17 pm
etcircenses) wrote in thearena2014-05-17 03:17 pm
Entry tags:
- ! arena 10,
- cassandra marko,
- clara murphy,
- commander shepard,
- roland deschain,
- the grand highblood,
- the signless,
- ✘ alex murphy,
- ✘ brainiac 5,
- ✘ bucky barnes (616),
- ✘ carlos the scientist,
- ✘ clementine,
- ✘ co,
- ✘ courfeyrac,
- ✘ cuthbert allgood,
- ✘ deanna winchester,
- ✘ diana ladris,
- ✘ donatello,
- ✘ enjolras,
- ✘ fili,
- ✘ gannicus,
- ✘ hanji zoe,
- ✘ hawkeye pierce,
- ✘ ian chesterton,
- ✘ jack frost,
- ✘ jaime reyes,
- ✘ joel,
- ✘ kevin,
- ✘ marius pontmercy,
- ✘ max guevara,
- ✘ nasir,
- ✘ natasha romanoff,
- ✘ orc,
- ✘ r,
- ✘ red sonja,
- ✘ riley abel,
- ✘ rock lee,
- ✘ rokk krinn,
- ✘ ruffnut thorston,
- ✘ some ovmennet,
- ✘ starkiller,
- ✘ steve rogers,
- ✘ susannah dean,
- ✘ topher brink,
- ✘ venus dee milo,
- ✘ vriska serket
ARENA 10-Placid Hollow
The Tributes are taken early in the morning, most of their support teams seeming in good cheer as they dress them in warm clothes, getting them to their tubes. There is obvious comfort in the familiar for the prep teams, and they chatter with, or in some cases, over the heads of their Tributes as they get them ready and load them up.
20
19
18…
If the Tributes could see the area they are passed up into, they would see a deeply overgrown, dilapidated town green, with a large bandstand rotting away in the middle. The spoils of the cornucopia are not gathered in one spot, instead scattered throughout the thigh high grass and weeds around the town green.
Around the edge of the green, the old business stand a silent sentry, looming out of the fog as it thins and winds into them, providing much desired cover.
8
7
6…
But the Tributes cannot see the ground around them. The fog, thicker even than it will be in the rest of the arena, makes the world small around them. The sound of the count down echoes strangely, the tributes seeming too close as the fog brings sounds of their breath, their coughing, the snap of twigs under their feet right to ears of the other Tributes. But with the fog bringing visibility down to only a few feet, it's hard to tell what is a true danger, and what is only the fog playing tricks on them,.
3
2
1
The gong rings out, and the countdown's voice announces "the Arena is now open". The Games have begun.
19
18…
If the Tributes could see the area they are passed up into, they would see a deeply overgrown, dilapidated town green, with a large bandstand rotting away in the middle. The spoils of the cornucopia are not gathered in one spot, instead scattered throughout the thigh high grass and weeds around the town green.
Around the edge of the green, the old business stand a silent sentry, looming out of the fog as it thins and winds into them, providing much desired cover.
7
6…
But the Tributes cannot see the ground around them. The fog, thicker even than it will be in the rest of the arena, makes the world small around them. The sound of the count down echoes strangely, the tributes seeming too close as the fog brings sounds of their breath, their coughing, the snap of twigs under their feet right to ears of the other Tributes. But with the fog bringing visibility down to only a few feet, it's hard to tell what is a true danger, and what is only the fog playing tricks on them,.
2
1
The gong rings out, and the countdown's voice announces "the Arena is now open". The Games have begun.
CORNUCOPIA
Some
Why did it have to be fog?
Shifting uneasily from foot to foot to foot on his pedestal, Some stared out into the fog, main eyes wide. There was too much scattered light for the other three pairs - his vision was absolutely no advantage here. He pulled his warm hat down tight, listening, trying to determine the best direction to go. When the gong sounded, though, he still didn't know, and so he didn't bolt off his pedestal, but quietly slipped down into the scruffy grass, listening to running footsteps all around as he dropped to all eight, setting out into the fog in search of scents he knew.
[[Some's due to find a club. If anyone wants to find him on his way...]]
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OTA cw: mental health stuff
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open to all;
Max
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Donatello
OTA
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Susannah
Clara
Toward the edges of the Cornucopia
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Set before she meets Alex?
Sounds good!
Re: Sounds good!
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Shaggy (for Vriska and Thor eventually)
>Enter Vriska
>Shaggy: Panic
>Vriska: Lose Eye
>Shaggy: Apologize Futilely
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Steve Rogers | Open
Re: Steve Rogers | Open
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Ruffnut // OTA
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Sandy Marko OTA
Orc OTA
Re: Orc OTA
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Re: Orc OTA
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Open
Re: Open
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Riley | for Roland
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sherlock holmes ( open )
third
rock lee
Team of two willing to provide lots of pain
let us know if this isn't ok!
WOW THIS IS PERFECT omg yes yesyeysyesys!!!
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Justin Law | OTA
This seemed like a great way to get to know her new district
I apologize in advance
No apologizing necessary <3
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Cuthbert
Initiate | OTA
Kevin | OPEN
Courfeyrac > OPEN
Re: Courfeyrac > OPEN
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open
As soon as the countdown ended he was off, fumbling through the fog for a bag or a satchel or even a weapon, though it was extremely doubtful he would be lucky enough to find a musket here. All he had to do was stay calm, this was no worse than a blizzard back at his childhood home. All of a sudden there was pain, a quick knife to his shoulder given by someone unseen, and he bit back a curse. Nothing for it but to continue (and apply pressure to that wound, he would check on it when he could see better) -- so he did, keeping to the edges of the sound and fury up ahead of him, hoping someone would leave at least a few things behind.
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He makes his decision and moves with speed and stealth.
A few seconds later, Combeferre will feel a cold gloved hand close around his arm as the other man emerges out of the mist. Bucky silently mouths I'll help you at him, then jerks his head away from the noise of the Cornucopia, away from the green, where presumably some shelter awaits. At least, so they can hope.
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Trap.
Weapons and bags are too good to be true so he automatically ignores them, He is more than aware that that is where the first deaths will be so he has no intention of going near them.
The fog could be a problem, but if it's a problem for him it's a problem for others. He can't see any of the other avengers from where he is, so while he wonders if that's a good thing or not, he looks back out at the houses his eyes watching for anything important.
"the Arena is now Open." along with the gong is all Tony needs, and off he shoots in the opposite direction of the green heading towards houses, ignoring the first couple he heads further down finding one with an open door, closing it behind him then heads for the garage panting heavily while looking for tools, and maybe a car battery.
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"Well, hey there, teammate." A gentle reminder that he was not for killing!! Not yet. Spike didn't yet know he could harm Tony within the Arena, and so he was keeping his distance, just to be cautious. "You get anything good in your goodie-bag?" He raised his in indication, pushing the goggles back up into his hair.
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The first thing she finds is an abandoned storefront. It's different from the ones back home or the ones in the Capitol, but it's still recognizable. Without hesitating, she simply kicks the door in and darts into the dusty, dilapidated interior. She raises an arm to cover her mouth, sweeping the room with her gaze. Even if there aren't weapons, there has to be something useful in here. She starts rifling through the abandoned shelves.
Of course, that makes a bit of noise.
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The noise, however, gets him on edge. It might be someone else with the same idea as him, but he won't take any chances. Even if it were someone else, they could be intent on attacking anyone on sight, so he grabs a heavy piece of wood from nearby, and enters the room as quietly as he can. Not that the floorboards are very cooperative as they creak softly beneath his feet, but he at least is ready to defend himself if the person draws a weapon on him.
OTA
Besides, it was a town. There had to be something to scavenge, he thought, as he broke into one of the houses.
Karkat (Open!)
So he does run and he finds what looks like to be an abandoned residential hive and he sneaks in and crouches behind a window, keeping watch to see who'll pass it by--or, at least as much as he can in this fucking fog, which isn't much.
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jack frost
Jack came up to a blanket of fog. He couldn't see anything beyond a collapsing bandstand, and a few shadows that joined him. But there was something really...eerie about this place. Jack couldn't put his finger on it, but this didn't seem to be a good place.
Well, it wasn't good in general. Especially when you were here out to kill someone.
The one thing that really alarmed him was that there was no essence of fun here, none at all. Which was to be expected, considering their circumstances. But it still felt awful. Nobody believed in fun here, and it would be like that until he died. It made him feel tired, and weak. It made him feel alone. He didn't even have his staff with him.
So Jack stood there for twenty agonizing seconds, covered from head to foot in bundles, staffless, and scared out of his mind.
When the gong rang, Jack turned around and ran as fast as he could, ducking into a nearby shop for shelter. He wasn't worried about the stuff in the middle; what would be the chances if he ever tried to get anything? He'd end up getting his stuff stolen, or hurt, or... So he wouldn't risk it.
At least one thing that stuck with him was his nimbleness. Jack hopped and weaved through the broken stores with ease, nabbing whatever he could find. Which...wasn't all that much. A snack bar here, something there. Jack needed something, anything.
He had no powers anymore, no chances of ice flying out of his hands, or his staff appearing out of nowhere. So he crouched down behind one of the stores, waiting until things calmed. If that would happen.
Re: jack frost
For a moment, it might have looked like the young man was attacking but when he saw Jack there he dove towards him and ushered him closer to the dumpster, pulling a rusted and battered trash can in front of them to help hide them.
"Down! Down! So they don't see you! Sssh."
Shadows were moving in the fog and he seemed to be trying to hide himself and Jack from them.
Fíli » open
With the gong, Fíli is sprinting towards the green area, knowing well that it may be a trap but choosing to take his chances regardless. He'll need food and weapons, anything he can get his hands on, and he needs to find his brother.
The supplies, he doesn't do too bad on. He is not injured when he walks away with a bag, but Kíli is nowhere to be seen. Panic settles on him for his brother and no other reason, but he also knows that running deeper into the thick mist will only drag him into more trouble, not to mention that it might put Kíli's life at risk if he starts shouting his name. He still runs around the area, trying to see the familiar figure or hear his voice, but to no avail.
He's smart, is what Fíli tells himself as he turns around finally and runs to where he had seen the buildings at first. He could barely make them out now, what with the thick fog, but he still manages to reach them before anyone or anything comes at him. Once he gets there he hides himself into a corner to see what he can find on his bag.
There is water, at least. A couple of modern tools are inside, though he does not recognize them, but one is heavy and the other is thin and pointed, so he can use them as weapons still. A heavy chain sits at the bottom, something he will find use to just as well. Three candles - he almost has the mind to toss them away, but ultimately doesn't. And a metal container he has no idea how to use or what for. But no food.
He sets the tools on his waist where they are easier to reach for, and for now begins exploring the area, attention on any noises or movements around him, as he looks around for both things he can use for weapons and any animal or shrubbery that he can possibly eat, all the while eyes peeled for his brother.
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The gong sounds and in all honesty, Hawkeye didn't react like he had before. Sure- his heart leapt into his throat and his eyes stung with a film of mist, and his limbs and entire person felt heavier than lead. The abject terror wasn't something he'd ever grow out of. But he didn't sprint with all his might in the opposite direction of the cornucopia. He didn't dash madly towards it. If any camera fixed on him during the moments, any commentator might think he was trapped in a vortex of hesitance. Hawkeye stalked away from the fray but never strayed, never made himself lost. He counted who got bumped. Who got cut. Who fell. Who never got up. He memorized faces and how much red was smeared on them.
It had been a waste of time to try and help people in the frenzy before. But later. Help would be more valuable later.
Hawkeye hated himself for that. And like a ripe reminder, a small, familiar shape bolted away from the mess. Hawkeye remembered where to. And soon he was running from the center, too, too much time having already passed for it to be a safe place to stay any longer, his spectator sport coming to an end. He takes off in the direction where he thought he had seen the dwarf. Trying door after door is not only fruitless but nerve-wracking until Hawkeye spots the shape- and that's it, just the shape of Fili up ahead- and he bounds forward. All six-foot-two of him, flushed already from the run and the sights and what lies ahead. "Kili!" He hisses.
Because confusing brother for brother was bound to happen sooner or later.
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Closed to Ellie (may open later)
Or more accurately doesn't see the arena.
The fog is so thick she can barely make out anything two feet in front of her, certainly not enough to tell where the gear and weapons might lie. There could be anything out there; not limited to traps, monsters and other tributes.
With the countdown coming down to the last ten seconds Clementine makes a snap decision and bolts whichever way she thinks is opposite to the Cornucopia. It's nothing better than a guess, wanting to take herself away from immediate danger and hoping that she'll be able to last until she finds Joel and Ellie. After a hectic minute of running to put some distance between her and the starting point she slows, getting her breathing under control and crouching low.
Keep low, find something to use as a weapon, find shelter.
Clementine's underestimated how disorientating the fog is though, despite her best attempts to keep walking in a straight line she's sure she's failing, especially when the occasional looming shadow has her backtracking or veering sharply off to the side.
She thinks it's only been ten minutes but it's feeling longer. Clem stops to pick up a rock (it's better than nothing) and keeps going, squinting for the sight of anyone familiar.]
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She run's straight forward - assuming that they are arranged around the cornucopia in a circle, and is almost immediately rewarded by nearly stumbling over a heavy-laden bag. Whispering a quick 'yes!' to herself, she slung it over her shoulder, finding a knife lying right beneath it, and grabbed that too. Then she turned 90 degrees and ran as fast as she could in a completely different direction.
Can't see shit, she grumbles to herself, wondering how the fuck she is going to find anyone this time. She finds a wall, running her hands along it, and stops when she sees a dark shape in the fog. Carefully, she pulls out her knife, steeling herself as she edges toward it.
Friend or foe, she was ready.
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For Clem and then Donatello
She hadn't got much at the Cornucopia, just a club and a can of bugspray, but it was better than nothing and anyway, she'd found some fruit trees later and filled her pockets with apples. She'd eaten one too.
The apples had been an hour ago and now, now she's starting to ache a bit. She's not moving as fast as she'd like to, even on the forspecial legs. As far as she can tell, though, she's in a residential neighborhood. Maybe she'll try to duck inside one of these houses and rest a little.
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Cautiously she decides to approach the window and take a quick glance at the house opposite, the one Ellie was checking out. She realises she can barely make it out in the fog, great...
That's okay though, they'd come up with other signals in case one of them got into trouble, she hopes she won't have to use them though.
Except... movement catches Clementine's eye, she ducks down under the sill at once to peer more carefully. There's a woman down there and she's... oh no. She was coming right towards Clementine's house.
The girl grit her teeth, she didn't want to risk calling Ellie over yet, if she could get out by herself she would. A moments searching finds her a brick (after setting the cans down) and she hefts it in hand as she works at opening the window, praying it won't squeak, she can't exactly take her time either. It's the only plan that's coming to mind. If the woman gets into the house it'll be that much more difficult to get away.
Finally the window gives enough for Clem to be able to lean out, she doesn't even dare breath. Later she'll probably feel guilty but now... she stretches out her arm and hoping she's judged it right, let's the brick fall. It's just like a Walker, a Walker...
Because if she hasn't judged it right she could be in very real trouble.
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When the siren sounds, Eponine bolts blindly, in the opposite direction to the Cornucopia. As soon as she can find a safe-ish spot, she sits, stripping off her heavy boots and tying them about her neck so she might be able to run silently through the fog. Ghosts, after all, are much more difficult to kill.
She runs on, looking for shelter, for something she can use for a weapon. Through the fog, she can dimly make out a shape - a car? Is it a car? She makes for it anyway. It will be some sort of shelter, some sort of bed. Perhaps it will provide a weapon for her as well?
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He does not know what a car is, not exactly, but he approaches it nonetheless. The exterior seems of heavy metal, and he thinks if he manages to break it apart, he can get some parts he can use as blunt weapons. It is when he is rounding the car that he notices a shape moving closer, and he lifts the heavy wrench on his hand, speaking up before he remembers that might not be that good of an idea. "Who's there?!"
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OPEN
Joan just lifted her arms slightly, a gesture of frustration and resignation. Of course. Of course this would happen. They make a plan and it falls apart. She could barely see five feet in front of her; she couldn't make out Sherlock at all.
If it were any other arena, she might have changed her mind and tried for the Cornucopia. She might have gone in looking for Sherlock instead of for supplies. But now...now the only thing she could do was turn, and run. She couldn't go too far. The further she went, the less likely it was she and Sherlock would be able to find each other.
There was a car, sad and sagging in the middle of the road not too far away, its doors hanging open like a surrender. She got on the other side and sank to the ground, the car blocking the view from the town green, the one door sheltering her from anyone passing to her left. She sat, looking and listening and tired. Already so tired.
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"Find your own abandoned ride," he snapped to get her attention. But there were no keys, and the gas had been cyphened out long ago so there was no hotwiring to be done. And he'd just gotten through searching the thing so again, there was nothing actually valuable about this thing. He didn't even know why he was defending it, shaking his head and tentatively stepping out onto the ground, dragging his bag behind him until he had enough room to throw it over one shoulder. "Or don't. There's nothing good in there anyway."
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For Vriska;
He's watching his back and looking around him as he moves. He pulls the jacket tight around himself as he moves.
She's stalking yo mutants, snatchin' yo jackets up~
She took off through the heavy fog, her keen eyes squinting to see past the haze. First thing first, loot! She was making a b-line for the cornucopia when she suddenly she saw movement on her left side. A person's shape sprinting their way through the fog, but what caught her attention was a familiar face and a very familiar symbol. 8. In that moment she decided, it had to be hers.
Following on silent feet she stalked her prey, waiting for the moment to strike. God, it gave her chills.
He's really missin' his telepathy right about now
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Venus and Joly [Closed]
Within minutes her clothes feel soaked through from the damp and she's nearly snapped her ankle tripping over a knoll. She lands on her palms and wipes them on her sleeves, only to find a length of heavy chain in the grass next to her. She grabs it and pulls it tight between her hands.
She feels time slipping from her. No cannons have gone off, but any one of her people could be mortally wounded, and the longer she spends uselessly stumbling around the less time she has to put on a show for the Sponsors. She's biting her lip from her nerves when she comes across a male figure stumbling through the mist too.
She nearly puts the chain around his neck, stopping exactly when she recognizes him, her weapon taut.
"Joly!"
Re: Venus and Joly [Closed]
The cough, which could kill him first, is also a dead giveaway right now, and he is sucking in breaths as deeply as he dares, trying to work past it. No good so far, he thinks, remembering long afternoons of his childhood, and wishing he were with his mother, grandmother, or his little sister now.
And then, through the mist, spotting the weapon and a familiar face, that for a moment, seems to be his sister, Joly's blinking, reminding himself that of course he was just thinking of her, and smiling, somewhat grimly, at the girl who is not Tatienne, but is, in fact a better friend and asset here.
"Venus!" And though he's having trouble breathing, he does let out a relieved cough at seeing her.
Re: Venus and Joly [Closed]
Re: Venus and Joly [Closed]
Re: Venus and Joly [Closed]
Re: Venus and Joly [Closed]
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Open;
"The Arena is now open." At those words he sprung from his pedestal and took off in a direction at random, keeping low and moving with purpose. Get away from the start area, figure out where he was. Get his bearings. Survive. That's all he had to do. By the time he'd gone a couple hundred feet, he was panting for breath in the fog and he paused to lean against a tree, chest heaving. He'd be momentarily safe here, right?
Open;
At the sound of the gong, Topher took off away from the crowd, hoping that the shadows that he occasionally spied were fellow Tributes and not something worse. He ran as far as he could before he finally let go and fell to his knees out of breath. This wasn't going to work for long, he needed a weapon and cover. Glancing around at the trees he wished he was better at climbing. Hell, he wished he knew how to climb. Struggling to his feet he took off further into the trees, his steps echoing around as he tried to find a good place to hole up for awhile.
Re: Open;
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spike } ota.
"Digimon digital monsters, digimon are the champions..." is what you might hear before you see anyone come through the fog. Spike is trying his best not to remain out in the open, but there's only so much cover and when you can't really defend yourself he figures it's best not to be a sitting duck. Even those fuckers waddled around a little bit.
Still humming softly, though now he seems to have moved onto 'Welcome to the Jungle," Spike is stringing the wire he found in the Cornucopia across the path and anchoring it to saplings on either side. Classic tripwire. And the fog made a perfect built-in camoflage for his dumb pranks. Though it was practical, being that he couldn't physically attack these people, and if he just kept singing the chip couldn't zap him for thinking about hurting anyone. How did that Fresh Prince rap go again?
There's a rather jagged rock in the path so if you fall just right you might just crack your head open on it. Added bonus tbh. There's also some crooked pieces of glass and a spot that smells suspiciously like pickle juice nbd. Spike ducks behind an old oak tree to see if anyone will happen by. Like he told Xander, he's pretty sure he can eat someone if they're already dead. How great would it be if he got a trophy and a full tummy out of this.
He can just ignore how little joy that actually brings him - he thinks he hears someone coming. He goes quiet and hunkers down.
[[ feel free to run into him anytime during this process or have your character sidestep the trap as well. ]]
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Unfortunately for Spike, none of his attempts at catching her out in a trap work, if that had been the intention. She's too used to spending long hours hunting all sorts of monsters to be so inattentive as to mess that sort of meddling, especially when the fog has her on high alert as it is. Who knows what else could be lurking out amongst the fog, given some of the other things they've had thrown at them during the Arenas.
It the silence that finally gets her to draw near enough to be seen, and she's a strange sight, appearing out of the fog. Not one that looks like it'd be too much of a threat, but between the grey of her skin and the horns she's not human no matter how humanoid she might look.
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Sonja : Open
Ducking into yet another house before moving away from all doors and windows. Taking a moment to sit down and gather her thoughts whilst keeping her sharpened sense at their max. Her next bet would most likely be to wait for everyone to wilt down into just a minute handful of people. Perhaps she should also make traps of her own, just in case?
Sonja was rather positive that she could salvage whatever she could find here to make something.]
Carlos, stripping cars, open
Ladies and gentlemen, Carlos the scientist had found a lab coat.
He had no supplies to show for the cornucopia, but as he crept through the fog he had seen a pharmacy, and -- well -- Carlos had priorities. The medicine was all expired, of course, but Carlos grabbed some of it anyway. Maybe he could reduce it to its component chemicals and use it for something later.
He had found the lab coat draped over the back of a chair. It was musty, dirty, and the style was extremely unfashionable and very out-of-date, but it was better than nothing. Carlos felt much more like himself as he went on through the fog -- he looked more like himself, and he had to sell him, Carlos, the scientist, as someone who was willing to put on a good show in the Arenas. If he didn't...well, he'd never know, would he? Because after he died in the Arena, he'd just never wake up.
Thinking about the inevitability of death but the evitability of early death had distracted Carlos so much that when an abandoned car loomed up in front of him, he nearly walked right into it. Carlos pushed his glasses back up his nose and peered at it, walking around it slowly. It was clear that no one was in the cab. Carlos wondered: could it be made to work again?
A look under the hood said no; no, too many parts were damaged, too many parts were missing. However, Carlos looked at the rusty old engine with a critical eye, and rubbed his chin with his hand. Maybe he could find a use for the car after all.
Anyone who came across him would see a tall figure in a filthy lab coat, elbows deep in engine, trying very hard to disassemble it quietly and not entirely succeeding.
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Joan left the car she had been hiding behind and made her way back toward the Cornucopia. Or at least toward where she thought the Cornucopia was. The fog was too thick for her to be certain.
The car materialized from the mist, and she could hear someone there, doubtless someone trying to strip the car of parts. She looked around and crept closer, pressing herself to the car and making her way closer to the sound. She wasn't surprised to see someone trying to disassemble the engine, but her eyebrows did go up at the lab coat. It was white (well, mostly) which was sure to make him easier to see, and the material couldn't have been thick enough to offer any protection.
She stayed pressed against the car, watching him.
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Re: Carlos, stripping cars, open
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Initiate | OTA
But more than that, he heard a scream. To be fair, he heard a few. A good motherfucking handful of people getting a hurt on and at each other. But the one scream rang to sharp and it ran down his spine with its familiarity. He prays he was wrong.
He's got enough for his trouble though. The bag he's claimed is full of things he can use. And a motherfucker can't go wrong with a pickaxe. Blunt enough to feel alright in his grip, but something that will still spill blood. A win-win.
He picks himself up and starts to head into the fog, where something calls to him, far off and distant.
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Unfortunately, you can only sneak so much in a place you aren't familiar with when you can't see past your fuckin' nose. From a distance, he figures the troll is a junk pile or a mound or something, but he barely blips on his radar when he hears a scream in the distance. He's turning around while he walks, trying to look for the source of the sound and the culprit while also backing the fuck up. This, of course, risks him bumping into that trash pile. That very solid trash pile. It's feeling less and less like a trash pile. God he hopes its a spider.
"Nice day out, huh?" He fumbles for words as the figure of the massive troll starts to become clearer, silently cursing the day he was born with dumb feet. "Wow you're.. big. That's gotta be good for you."
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Sabriel, OPEN
She looks around for an item, but between the poor visibility and Sabriel's own desire to avoid other tributes, she doesn't find anything before she walks away, moving quickly and making as little noise as possible.
Toward end of the first day
After the rush for the Cornucopia, R settles staggering away with the vague concept he should have a plan that didn't involve lurching around aimlessly until he started eating people. Night falls by the time he makes it to one of the buildings: it's run down, covered in weeds and creepers and frankly, it looks a lot like the stuff he's seen back home. The door's hanging open in this one. It's easy to shuffle in, his shoes creaking against the floor boards as he lifts his head, sniffs noisily.
Someone's in here.
R follows the smell. No eating. Just - just groaning hi. Something reassuring. Helping, not murdering. That's his motto for this Arena.
Re: Toward end of the first day
Re: Toward end of the first day
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Closed to Lyle and Cos
He had to make it so Rokk and Lyle found him, without giving himself away to people that might kill him. Even in his scattered state he knew how vital that was. Because of his scattered state, he knew how vital that was.
So he did the logical thing and...curled his hand at his mouth and whistled.
The beauty of Coluan dexterity was that it was very easy for most Coluans to manage complex body movements and actions. That meant that the whistling sounded very distinctly animal in nature, birdlike enough that most wouldn't have even considered that it was coming from a Tribute. (And why wouldn't there be birds in this arena? It was still so new, no one would know what wildlife they would find.)
So that he could attract the right people, he made it sound distinctly like the call of a Titanian Silver Swallow, a common enough pet on multiple worlds that anyone from their universe would be familiar with it.
To anyone else it was innocuous, likely sounding simply like a random bird in some high place. To Lyle and Cos, they'd be left wondering why they were hearing here of all places.
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He should've studied the footage of previous arenas more, come up with a basic plan for them to organise themselves. It was impossible to account for the actual setting ahead of time but he could have worked something out - a signal, a way for them to find each other, a contingency plan. It was a stupid oversight on his part and he just had to hope it didn't wind up costing his team. If either one of them was hurt because of his mistake...
That thinking wasn't productive. He'd remember it for the future but right now he had to find his team.
Which was going to be difficult if Brainy had done anything but run in a straight line.
On guard for an attack Rokk pressed on through the fog, searching for any sign of his fellow Legionnaires with increasing frustration. Until a familiar birdsong made him draw up short in surprise. It had been a long time since he'd heard that particular call and hearing it here could only mean one thing.
Following the sound to it's source, he gripped the handle of the pick-axe Brainy had found tightly, ready to discourage any other Tributes who might take an interest in where he was going.
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open
He needed two things, water, and a weapon, after that he'd try to find Shepard or someone else he knew. But for now, wandering through the thick fog and trying to avoid most people was all he could do.
Closed to Rat
He was well aware that any action or utterance from him that the Capitol might dislike and she could be in as much a danger as he—if not even more. Adding to that the fact that Enjolras had been returned to the arena to replace her caused the interweaving guilt and uneasiness to suffocate him.
And then there was this arena. Allies and enemies blurred together in the foggy mist, their shouts and sounds no different from the rest. The metallic smell of blood soon intermingled with the darkness, and for a brief moment Marius was transported back to the smoke and death at the barricades.
And so he ran, intending to find something of use to him and his friends in the upcoming days, or to protect someone before he died.
Re: Closed to Rat
And with Shion gone, he was now a man with nothing to lose. There was no holding back. His usual strategy was still at hand this time, too. He bolted off his platform, running far faster than what would be considered wise in this dense fog.
Along the way he was jostled and pushed by some other people, and found a crowbar that had gone missed. He clutched it tightly in his hands. He came to the mouth of the cornucopia structure itself, and headed around the outside, keeping the wall on his right. It was there that he found a bag of supplies. There was no time to see if it was anything useful, but he wasn't going to pass it up. He reached out for one of the straps, momentarily losing focus on his immediate surroundings.
also wow i switched tenses in my last tag i'm gomen
no worries!
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closed to...anyone who would ICly know Morse code?
Morse code.
CA PARK THREE HOURS
Whoever's responsible for the whistles vanishes into the mists before he can be apprehended.
It's a gamble. There's no guarantee Steve is still close enough to even hear the code, or that someone else won't pick up on it. But it's the only chance Bucky has right now with limited resources.
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When he does arrive, it's a little early, only his axe and a couple minor injuries are his spoils. The injuries are easy enough to mask, blunt force is one type of damage he can take a lot of.
Steve indicates his location by humming a couple notes of a song every ten minutes, then relocating once too much time of no response passes.
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Giving a small smile at being thanked - even if he doesn't think it's necessary - Steve pats Ian's shoulder kindly. "Take care. I'm sure I'll be seeing you around," it's a good guess to say it won't be the last time they meet. Maybe not in the arena, but they'll meet again.
He'll take his leave then, needing to find his allies and secure a place for them to camp out as well.
(ooc: If you want Ian to stop him before he leaves, go for it ouo)