gamemakers: (seal.)
The Gamemakers ([personal profile] gamemakers) wrote in [community profile] thearena2013-01-12 03:36 pm

Arena 05 - Chill

Usually, the tribute's outfits for the arena aren't accessorized. But today, the last thing their stylists hand them before the countdown begins is a pair of heavy black glasses, polarized and thick-lensed. They look at odds with the thick, winter gear they've been outfitted in.


It's a long rise to the surface today, inside their individual little tubes, much longer than usual. They start to feel the cold only about halfway up, and to hear the wind. It howls across the surface as they reach it, pressing all of their clothes flat against their bodies. And the reason for the glasses is immediately apparent.


20 - 19 - 18


The sky is white. The ground is white (and gray and black and blue but mostly white), the far-off sea is blinding silver. Everything in sight flings light around, fractures it into scintilating rainbows and sheer white beams of reflection. It is strong, cruel light, and it bears no heat at all. The surface is so cold that the little metal trackers ache in everyone's arm, and the countdown has to continue at a deafening volume to be heard.


 12 - 11 - 10 -


The circle of silver pedestals is the only regular shape to be seen. All else is fractured and split, the most uneven footing imaginable. And at the center of the circle, the Cornucopia sports icycles hanging from its lip, almost to the pile of supplies tucked all neatly inside its mouth.


4


3


2


There's a lull in the wind just as the gong sounds, letting it peal out across the frozen glacier, and echo off the high rock cliffs in the distance. And the ice answers, with a loud crack that seems to come from miles down.


Let the Games begin.
tailforbrains: (steamed)

For Copycat

[personal profile] tailforbrains 2013-01-13 09:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Neeshka was still out of sorts. Between hardly sleeping, fretting over the possibility of painful death and potential discomfort like last arena, and the fight with Wyatt weighing on her mind, she was most definitely not at her best this morning.

Still, she was quick, and she relied on that. She made a mad dash for the Cornucopia, sending snow flying and with her tail lashing about behind her for balance, and the bow that had served her so well last time. If only she could get that, she could be all right, even without stupid Wyatt.
icanbeanyone: (if only you dare)

[personal profile] icanbeanyone 2013-01-14 05:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Out of sorts was the kind of target that Copycat loved to find, and find she did when she stepped off of her platform casually, looking almost bored in the process. Standing at six feet tall, her frame was built to be useful in assassinations and well, it was a touch cold but whatever. There's killing to do!

Copycat just wandered about towards the Cornucopia, spotting an ice axe that looked to be a promising weapon. However, she got side-tracked by the tiefling who was paying far too much attention to the bow that several other people were going for.

"Perfect."

Copycat was just as quick as Neeshka, but far more stealthy and was behind her instantly.

"Shame on you, sweetie. Don't you know the first thing about going to war?" Towering over her, her hands came down to grab the tiefling's head. In one quick and effortless gesture, she snapped Neeshka's neck and let her drop to the ice like a rock.

BOOM.

The cannon sounded and she chuckled. "Never lose sight of your surroundings."

The metamorph simply stepped over the lifeless body at her feet and strolled off to try procuring the ice axe.