Panem Events (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
etcircenses) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2014-08-18 09:38 pm
etcircenses) wrote in thearena2014-08-18 09:38 pm
Entry tags:
- ! arena 11,
- aang,
- albert heinrich,
- bucky barnes (mcu),
- cassandra marko,
- clara murphy,
- commander shepard,
- harley quinn,
- jet link,
- molotov cocktease,
- sigma klim,
- the grand highblood,
- the signless,
- ✘ alex murphy,
- ✘ astrid hofferson,
- ✘ brainiac 5,
- ✘ bruce banner,
- ✘ bucky barnes (616),
- ✘ carlos the scientist,
- ✘ clementine,
- ✘ dave strider,
- ✘ dennett norton,
- ✘ donatello,
- ✘ edward nygma,
- ✘ elsa,
- ✘ eridan ampora,
- ✘ hiccup,
- ✘ homura akemi,
- ✘ joel,
- ✘ justin hammer,
- ✘ kankri vantas,
- ✘ kurloz makara,
- ✘ mindy macready,
- ✘ nasir,
- ✘ natasha romanoff,
- ✘ peggy carter,
- ✘ pruna,
- ✘ rocket raccoon,
- ✘ ruffnut thorston,
- ✘ skye,
- ✘ sollux captor,
- ✘ steve rogers,
- ✘ tess,
- ✘ tony stark
ARENA 11-PaneMall
It’s pre-dawn when the Tributes are roused from their beds and sent to their tubes. Those who’d been imprisoned for the past few weeks had their heads covered before transport to the staging area, and there’s an air of confusion surrounding just about everything that’s happening until the stylists and managers arrive on the scene and try to calm everyone down. The reunions may be happy, but they're sadly very temporary.
The first clue that something strange is happening comes from their clothing: figure skating costumes with bright colors and sequins and ice skates strapped to their feet. Some may even find it difficult to stand with the blades on their feet, but as they're placed into the arena, all becomes clear. The mall skating rink seems quiet and quaint, especially after weeks of uncertainty and stress. Too bad the peace and quiet can’t last.
20
19
18...
Above the ice rink (which houses all 100+ Tributes) there are floors with shops looking over them. Large, bright fluorescent lights dot the multi-storied ceiling and create a warm, nostalgic glow to the place. Benign music is piped in from various hidden speakers to compliment the intended mood of fun and commerce.
17
16
15…
The countdown continues and the Tributes, some of whom haven’t seen each other in weeks, stare at one another helplessly. That is, until one of them boldly decides to speak.
"We're expected to fight here today," Steve's voice suddenly cuts through the tension in the room. It commands attention without demanding it, a conviction of truth in his tone.
14
13
12...
"To turn on each other through fear and self preservation. And we could give them what they want. A bloodbath," here he pauses longer, lets the reality of his statements sink in. Let people realize what he's saying, that this is a choice.
"Or we can choose not to fight. To instead work together," an option so many seem not to even realize they have. "No one here has to die by our hands today," he knows his speaking won't be without consequence, but he does want to believe he'll be the only one to pay for this.
"This is a risk. One many of you are hesitant to trust, let alone take. But everything we do here is a risk to ourselves and those around us," nothing in the arena comes without putting your life on the line.
"I, for one, am willing to take this risk, to choose not to fight," Steve looks around the room, making eye contact with a few people as he does. He's not telling anyone what to do, this is for them to decides for themselves; their freedom of choice.
But he's got faith in the his fellow tributes. "And I've got a feeling I'm not alone.”
… 3
2
1…
After the countdown ends, there’s a moment of utter still and silence. Then...
BOOOOOOOOOOOM
The room seems to erupt with noise and concussive force. The explosions are so violent that the muzak is paused in its tracks and shakes some of the Tributes off of their pedestals, and after the ice fog and smoke clears, it becomes apparent that fifteen of the Tribute pedestals and exploded there on the ice rink. Fifteen corpses lie mangled on the bloody ice: Deanna Winchester, Danny Fenton, Fili, Kili, Kain Highwind, Perry Kelvin, Julian Bashir, Clint Barton, Karkat Vantas, Sirius Black, Rahm Kota, Cinderella, Bunnymund, Robin, Rock Lee, and Rokk Krin.
The center of the ice rink remains completely intact and stocked with a few dozen keys of varying shapes and sizes. This is the Cornucopia and the Gamemakers are compelling the Tributes to skate for it.
The gong rings out, and the countdown's voice announces “The Arena is now open.” The Games have begun.
The first clue that something strange is happening comes from their clothing: figure skating costumes with bright colors and sequins and ice skates strapped to their feet. Some may even find it difficult to stand with the blades on their feet, but as they're placed into the arena, all becomes clear. The mall skating rink seems quiet and quaint, especially after weeks of uncertainty and stress. Too bad the peace and quiet can’t last.
19
18...
Above the ice rink (which houses all 100+ Tributes) there are floors with shops looking over them. Large, bright fluorescent lights dot the multi-storied ceiling and create a warm, nostalgic glow to the place. Benign music is piped in from various hidden speakers to compliment the intended mood of fun and commerce.
16
15…
The countdown continues and the Tributes, some of whom haven’t seen each other in weeks, stare at one another helplessly. That is, until one of them boldly decides to speak.
"We're expected to fight here today," Steve's voice suddenly cuts through the tension in the room. It commands attention without demanding it, a conviction of truth in his tone.
13
12...
"To turn on each other through fear and self preservation. And we could give them what they want. A bloodbath," here he pauses longer, lets the reality of his statements sink in. Let people realize what he's saying, that this is a choice.
"Or we can choose not to fight. To instead work together," an option so many seem not to even realize they have. "No one here has to die by our hands today," he knows his speaking won't be without consequence, but he does want to believe he'll be the only one to pay for this.
"This is a risk. One many of you are hesitant to trust, let alone take. But everything we do here is a risk to ourselves and those around us," nothing in the arena comes without putting your life on the line.
"I, for one, am willing to take this risk, to choose not to fight," Steve looks around the room, making eye contact with a few people as he does. He's not telling anyone what to do, this is for them to decides for themselves; their freedom of choice.
But he's got faith in the his fellow tributes. "And I've got a feeling I'm not alone.”
2
1…
After the countdown ends, there’s a moment of utter still and silence. Then...
The room seems to erupt with noise and concussive force. The explosions are so violent that the muzak is paused in its tracks and shakes some of the Tributes off of their pedestals, and after the ice fog and smoke clears, it becomes apparent that fifteen of the Tribute pedestals and exploded there on the ice rink. Fifteen corpses lie mangled on the bloody ice: Deanna Winchester, Danny Fenton, Fili, Kili, Kain Highwind, Perry Kelvin, Julian Bashir, Clint Barton, Karkat Vantas, Sirius Black, Rahm Kota, Cinderella, Bunnymund, Robin, Rock Lee, and Rokk Krin.
The center of the ice rink remains completely intact and stocked with a few dozen keys of varying shapes and sizes. This is the Cornucopia and the Gamemakers are compelling the Tributes to skate for it.
The gong rings out, and the countdown's voice announces “The Arena is now open.” The Games have begun.
no subject
Fuck. Yes.
Seems like it's a time to make some heartfelt reunions, what with everyone around them hugging and helping each other out. Dave is clumsy on his skates, but he manages to slide up toward the scientist easily. He's sporting a number that involves belts across his chest, a vest, frilly sleeves and tight, glittery black fabric. Let's pretend this isn't a thing.
"There's the man of the hour." He gives Carlos an appraising look, just a bit of a critical squint to it. "What you said to Kermit and friends, was it true?"
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When Carlos sees Dave, he takes a moment to be deeply glad that Dave is all right. He doesn't know if Dave was involved with the jailbreak. He hopes Dave wasn't, and that Dave is just tired from a sleepless night before the Arena. But he can't say for sure.
"...yes," Carlos says, with conviction. He's still not used to saying things like this out loud, without fear. He knows that not all of what he said was true: he doesn't consider Lyle and Brainy enemies, but he can't say that without breaking their cover. "You mean what I said about Cecil, right? That is absolutely true."
no subject
When Carlos answers, Dave's lips quirk upward into something that could almost be considered a smile. It isn't a blink if you miss it deal, because he's having a hard time making it stop. "Cool." He says casually, like he's not all that invested, raising a wrist that Carlos can now see is cuffed to rub his neck awkwardly. "I mean, I sort of knew. But I'm glad you can admit it to yourself and uh. Everyone watching I guess."
He shrugs, stepping in a little closer to give Carlos a brofist. On skates, he isn't exactly graceful, he overestimates his stability and the fist is going to thud against Carlos's perfect chest with the rest of Dave following after. He's about ready to die now, he thinks.
no subject
His heart sinks.
Dave.
He's not entirely sure what Dave is trying to do with the fist and the stumbling, but it looks a hell of a lot like Dave is going in for a hug, and Carlos wants to hug Dave, so when Dave hits Carlos's chest, Carlos will make a sweet catch and wrap his arms around Dave's shoulders.
It hits him how small Dave is -- how young some of the people in this situation are. And still, Dave had done something to get himself branded a traitor: in all probability, he had been involved with the jailbreak.
What a brave goddamn kid.
no subject
"This is so lame." He murmurs quietly, sounding indignant even though he follows the observation with a chuckle. Despite himself, he'll lean just a little more into the hug. Something about Carlos is just weirdly comforting, especially now that he understands where he was coming from all the more.
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"Actually, I think this is the only thing about our current situation that isn't lame," Carlos replies, tightening his arms around Dave's shoulders for a second. "The Capitol is lame, the Hunger Games are lame, these outfits are really lame..."
Seriously. Carlos isn't a cowboy. He's a scientist.
He lets go a second later, keeping his hands on Dave's shoulders.
"But seeing people who are important to me again isn't lame at all."
It's funny, how easier it is to talk about feelings after being tortured for weeks. It shuffles your priorities around a little. Suddenly, telling people how you feel is more important than avoiding embarrassment.
no subject
When Carlos speaks, he lets out a faint chuckle. He can't refute his points, so it just urges him to lift at least one arm up and drape it around the older man. Lame, so lame, but a good lame. Sort of.
A brow quirks at the surprising depth of those words, without his shades it's pretty hard to keep his expressions quite so neutral. He definitely looks surprised. Say something. Oh my god. Reply. Stop staring at him and talk.
"Looks like I'm on the Christmas card list this year." Lord. "You're important to me too." He adds, like it's an afterthought. "Thank you for not dying. I am not emotionally equipped to deal with revenge of the nerds."
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Carlos has just been tortured for weeks. He doesn't give a fuck anymore. There's no vitriol in Carlos's voice, only casual judgment.
no subject
"Thems fighting words." He smirks. "You wanna be careful with those burns, bro. There could be stairs anywhere around here." That was a low blow, he might just be testing how chill Carlos is.
no subject
"...that was one time," he muttered. "And I don't think that was the Capitol. I think that was just me being clumsy."