Arena 01: Ready, set, go!

[gamemakers]

There's no word, before they arrive, of what the Arena will look like, what hazards and advantages it will give to the Tributes. It was a topic of interest in the news coverage beforehand, it always is, but as always, it's a closely guarded secret of the Gamemakers. They're gathered from the Training Center, individually, and taken into the hovercraft, where everyone is implanted with a tracking device, buried deep in the muscle of their forearm. It's harmless, but cutting it out would not be.

The hovercraft delivers them to an underground bunker, with only their stylists, and there they receive their one advance clue about the Arena; their clothing. Each Tribute is dressed in thick cloth pants and shirt, given sturdy hiking boots with thin neoprene socks, and a short, weather-proof jacket with deep pockets and a plastic hood. Nothing more.

There's just time to say goodbye to the stylists when the countdown starts. Each Tribute is directed into a glass and metal tube, which then ascends. And the countdown keeps going, a loud projected voice.

25 - 24 - 23 - 22 - 21

It's noon in the Arena, the sun brilliant on water, on cliffs, on the snow high above them. Twenty-four pedestals stand in the span of a wide tide-flat, surrounded by stony mud encrusted with oysters, cut through with rivulets of glistening water.

18 - 17 - 16 - 15

Through the middle of their circle runs a thigh-deep river, the run-off of the massive waterfall that stands a short ways back in the woods, and in the middle of that is the Cornucopia, blinding gold in the sunlight, reflecting the sea and the trees and the mountains.

9 - 8 - 7

They've all been warned, don't step off your pedestal early.

4 - 3

2

And then the gong, rolling out to echo off the cliffs and water, seeming to ring forever.


[OOC: Don't forget the OOC Arena post, especially those of you running for the Cornucopia. And here are your fellow tributes. Every single one of you ought to post to this post. There will be a Cornucopia thread, and anyone else feel free to post as you will. Please add a tag with your character's name.]

Comments

Cornucopia!

[gamemakers]

Getting anything here is going to be cold and risky. The water is almost waist-deep, and comes straight from those snowfields so high above you.

Good luck!

Amy

[forgetfulmind]

And Amy hesitates, for a long, crucial moment. Long enough to see the other Tributes dart for it, to see one, two explosions of violence at the Cornucopia. And she decides that, really, her 'mentor' is right and she doesn't want any part of this.

She steps off her pedestal, her heart racing. She feels weak, like some strength has been drained out of her, and it's cold, and she's really this close to panicking --

There, though --

There's something floating down the stream, ahead of the rest, and it doesn't look like anyone's going for it, and so she takes off running. Better to have something than nothing, right? Every moment she cringes, anticipating a knife in her back or a shout.

She plunges into the stream, and the breath is shocked out of her by the utter cold. Runoff from snow, her brain helpfully provides, by way of explanation, and she sloshes through, snags the drifting bundle, and runs for the steepest slopes she can see.

[ Welcome to interrupt her, but no killing (this time)! ]

Shepard

[galaxyherder]

The only way Shepard can process this entire ordeal, is to play as though this is just another mission. She can do this. She can survive.

She breathes deep and slow as the pedestal ascends. In. Out. In. Out. And takes in her surroundings.

Twenty three others surround her, most of them are faces she has never seen. Some of them... aren't. Allies or targets. It does matter. There before her she sees a plethora of useful things, and if she wants an advantage -- if she wants to survive -- she needs to get them. Otherwise, this is going to be a very short game, and she won't deny that there is some pride standing in her way. The only way she's going down, is with a fight.

The bow catches her eye first. Long-range weapons are somewhat of a specialty for her. She has good eyes and a brilliant aim. But she knows guns, not arrows.

No.

The countdown is almost over, and her gaze finds a machete instead. Deadly if used against an opponent, but also useful in the wilds. And judging by the look of things, there are plenty of wilds to be found around here.

3. 2. 1.

She launches herself off the pad, heading straight for the cornucopia. The shock of the cold water registers only long enough for her amend her objective.

Machete and a bag.

But she is clearly not the only one with this in mind, and so the bloodbath begins.


[Interruptions welcome! But according to her death roll, she survives the cornucopia.]

Re: Shepard

[ssa_emilyprentiss]

Emily rights herself and launches herself back towards the Cornucopia, rock still clasped tightly in her hand. Everyone else has either sprinted for the woods or was slower off the launch pads - only one person remains in her way.

From the looks of her, Emily wasn't sure if she could physically best her, at the very least, they'd be extremely well-matched.

Briefly considering throwing the rock at her, then quickly thinking better of it, she decided to take a different tact and try gaining her good graces.

"Watch it!" Emily called out, a thick log floating down-stream towards them with the current, making straight to take her legs out from under her.

Re: Shepard

[galaxyherder]

It takes half a second to register that the shout is directed at her. The other half of the second to realize that it's a warning. And that's when she sees the log.

She understands that something as simple as looking your footing in a situation like this could mean life or death. That log could very well have knocked her straight into the water; the current taking her down stream and leaving her vulnerable to attack.

Shepard nods and gives what isn't exactly a smile, but an acknowledgment. She knows what this woman just did for her and, at the very least, owes her enough not to launch into an attack.

Weapon in hand; not the machete she'd been going for, but a sword. A sword she knows is sharp. She has the bloodstains to prove it. Shepard stills; an offer of a tentative truce.

Re: Cornucopia!

[theworsekind]

Tate's eyes have finally adjusted to being outside. He notices the wind blowing but doesn't feel anything as it touches him. As he listens to the countdown he continues to ponder if he is even actually alive. He sees the frightened, confused and confident looks on the faces of other tributes he hadn't seen before. Every one of them looking foreign in their own way.

He looks to the cornucopia and focuses on the weapons immediately. Those would be useful. The second the canon sounds, he doesn't need to tell his legs to run, as his body goes into autopilot. His first focus is a machete in the water- oh, that'd just be fun to have. Running towards it at full speed, he sees other tributes doing the same. Water is splashing, but he doesn't feel it as it touches his skin, but still it causes him to pause as it hits his face blocking his vision.

He is shoved and the machete is gone. Shit! Without warning, the tribute in front of him turns towards him, making him retreat. Gotta get a fucking weapon! His eyes dart around as he moves as quickly as he can through the thigh-high water that continues to splash around him with the movement of others. His eyes spot a knife in the water and he shifts his direction to go for it, but all the movement makes the knife go under and he can't grab it.

"Shit!" his frustration is verbalized and he decides without much thought that it is time to get out of this area and the water that is weighing down his pants.

Making a run for dry land, its luck that he passes a thin floating stick in the water, which he snatches. Out of the water he can see it's a bow. Really?! His thoughts don't have time to reflect on his initial reaction to bows and arrows in the training area before the strange men who judged him, but his reacting feelings tell him he's annoyed.

Focusing on the wooded area, he ignores the wet clothes, which he can't seem to "shift" out of like he could when he was at the Murder House. His only thoughts now are to get away from everyone so he can think of a strategy to win this damn thing.

[Welcome to interrupt/interact, but no dying]

[tasteyellowdeath]

Yutaka could not believe this was happening again. He could not believe there was another nation just as sick as Greater East Asia, pitting its kids against each other in a fight to the death (America? was this America? those distant conifers looked American...). He could not believe he had been rescued from the Program only to be thrown into these equally horrific Games. What was it that Keita used to say? Out of the frying pan, into the fire...?

Surreal to think that Keita was dead now.

But perhaps worst of all was when Yutaka took a quick look around at the Tributes--some of them weren't even kids--and realized:

Mim's really not here.

No best friend to save his ass this time.

He dashed toward the stream. He must have made an odd sight, a speedy little blur of black hair and short limbs, a teenage boy hardly any taller than a twelve-year-old. He tried to grab the baseball bat, thinking, perhaps accurately, that it was the one weapon no one else would fight for--but it floated downstream too fast for him to snatch.

The next closest item was a hatchet. He grabbed that--surprised at his success--and immediately ran to the woods.

His socks and pants legs were drenched. At least the jacket was waterproof. Thank Elvis. This place was cold.

[needsaprince]

Lottie froze in her tracks as she heard the sounds of someone else coming, before panicking.

"Oh god, oh god, oh gaaaaawd!" She chanted, head jerking back and forth.

But all there was was tall, thin trees on either side, nothing like the thick coverage she was use to around New Orleans. Finally she just hunkered down, trying her best to hide behind the bushes around.

Emily

[ssa_emilyprentiss]

Emily doesn't bother looking at her opponents - she is above it all, there will be plenty of time for profiling later. The only things that exist in this moment are her and the Cornucopia.

The part of her brain that deflects pain with humor mimics Reid and his innate ability to find the least opportune moments to bring up useless, albeit pertinent, facts.

She tenses each muscle, ready for a fight, as the numbers burn themselves out. She knows she probably isn't the fastest, considering she may well be one of the oldest tributes, but she's willing to bet that she's probably killed more people than them. She isn't about to let them intimidate her - if anything, they should be intimidated by her. She was a federal agent, after all.

That's right, a federal agent. A supervisory special agent. Of the Behavioural Analysis Unit. That's about as elite as it gets.

All these other tributes were UNSUBs, she told herself. Just her and twenty-three UNSUBs and it was her job - no, her duty - to kill each and every last one of them.

But first, she needed weapons. Not that she needed weapons to kill someone, she'd proved that more than once, it just made the whole ordeal a lot faster and easier.

She threw more than a few punches in the scrabble to reach anything that might be of use, not stopping long enough to register if she landed any of them.

[Interruptions welcome! But according to her death roll, she survives the cornucopia.]

Re: Emily

[theworsekind]

In his dash towards dry land and the forest, Tate gets in the way of an unarmed tribute who in the splashes of the area of the weapons, punches him in the face causing his nose to bleed. He doesn't feel the pain of the hit, but it still knocks him down.

In a quick move he turns and makes a grab at her ankle in an effort of revenge.

[forgetfulmind]

There was one, at least, that she didn't land -- Amy threw herself to the side, the blow missing her by millimeters, and she landed on the ground, flat on her back, the impact knocking the breath out of her.

Didn't mean she stopped moving, though; she forced herself to roll to the side, stumble up and to her feet.

[selfcondemned]

Ken spends the countdown looking over the rest of the tributes (opponents? targets?) trying to memorize faces more than to size them up. But the seconds tick by far too fast and most of the tributes are spaced too far to get a good look at.

Besides, Ken's distracted by the sweeping expanse of the arena. He can't help but frown at the sight of it. Things would be much simpler if this place believed in straight up death matches. Cage matches might not be "in style" here, but given the number of weapons they still wanted to be entertained.

Ken looks over the weapons, gaze traveling over each and sometimes putting a familiar name to a weapon. In contrast, the bags and cans look out of place, as if set out for a hiking trip rather than a blood bath. Ken wonders if they're really expected to survive that long for wilderness survival skills to come into play.

When the canon sounds, he's off his pedestal like a shot, aiming for the closet knife while trying to avoid the rush of the crowd. (It's not his real preference, but close enough.) He doesn't want to kill anyone just yet. He's confident he can take almost anyone unarmed but if someone starts gets a weapon and starts playing for keeps, that's a different story.

He manages to get to river without any confrontation and he runs in straight away. And holy shit, that's cold. He lets out an involuntary yell even as he tries to push the sensation away and focus on the task at hand.

[Interruptions welcome!]

[thetributes]

Ellen had her eye set on a large back pack but when she saw everything going on, she froze with it in her hand.

This...this was madness. And they did this yearly? The murder...it was so useless.

((This NPC dies here at the cornucopia, free feel to take care of that))

Ariadne

[buildingreality]

Ariadne couldn't just flee without having anything on her; she's not prepared for any kind of arena just on her own. She had taken a long hard look around the Arena as she came up the tube, refusing to waste time once the gong had sounded. She darted off the pedestal, keeping low to the ground as she ran. There's a knife nearby, just within her reach if she can just stretch a little bit more. But there's someone beside her as well; it's all she can do to avoid a blow from them, dodging and losing her footing. She goes down, crying out as she hits the ground hard, but she manages to roll out of the way.

Adrenalin is the only thing that carries her to the Cornucopia: she wants to avoid the violence, she's never been good at it, she panics. But despite her heartbeat pounding in her ears, almost drowning out the rush of the water around her. It's cold, but she's able to ignore it for now; she remembers the chill of Eames' dream well enough. The uniform they provided isn't quite good enough for the trek through the river, but it'll do.

She tries for a bag instead, fingers shaking slightly from the cold of the river. Another failure, but there's a knife so close by, bound to float away if no one catches it. A thought hits her - that she needs something. She can't leave empty-handed, and she snatches up the knife. Though not the one she initially aimed for, it'll do. It'll give her something to work with, and maybe something to fend off potential attackers, though she knows they'll be after her soon. Maybe they'll ignore her - she doesn't look to be much of a threat, and she knows she probably isn't one. Her abilities don't lie in hand to hand combat, though she's a quick enough study.

Before she gets out of dodge, she snatches up as many cans as she can carry - those bumping into her, those just within reach. Her eyes are darting around her, watching the other tributes as they flee or fight. She hopes they don't take her lingering near the Cornucopia as an invitation for attack.

[forgetfulmind]

On her way out of the stream, making a beeline towards the forest, Amy runs smack into Ariadne.

The impact sends her tumbling, tripping and going shoulder-first into a tree. She grabs at one of the arrows in the quiver, grasping at it, hands trembling, and freezes.

She can't. She can't do this.

hitagi

[spites]

Her hands are empty, her lungs; the cold settles jagged in her mouth as she drags in every breath in a rhythm she tries to keep steady.

Ready.

And then she closes her eyes.

She does not think of the other tributes, does not allow herself the second to ask Can I- (and an echo in the clear cold quiet of her own mind, Will I-) because to ask is to pretend that she does not already know the answer, hasn't already given that answer over those two years when she lost her weight and her emotions and she does not have the time for that. For the few remaining seconds she has when she can still be herself and not just another girl trying to forestall dying, she breathes.

Set.

She opens her eyes and stares at the Cornucopia. She marks the three points that will form the line she has to run. In the water, the glint of the knife, a bag floating just past it and beyond that the treeline. Don't stop. Keep running. She will not get them, she thinks and this is how it used to be, how she survived those two years. Functional paranoia, living every second as a worst case scenario.

Go.

Off the pedestal and running and then half-falling into the water, an icy slap on her skin and she runs for the knife, for the bag and for the trees.


[ hurhur interrupt away! hitagi's luck is of the suck so she totally fails to get both the knife and the bag but at least she lives! ]

[buildingreality]

They are going for the same knife.

Ariadne figures this out when she sees someone coming up beside her. It doesn't slow her down any - she's moving too quickly to just stop - but her feet slip on the ground, the boots don't have enough traction to hold her upright, and she's going down before it even registers. One hand reaches up, trying to snatch for something, trying to stay upright, or at the very least, trying to take someone else down with her.

[needsaprince]

Lottie is trembling as the count down clicks away.

This can't be happening. It just can't. She should be warm in bed, or eating at Tia's cafe of doing anything besides...besides...

No. She can't even think about it.

When the count down ends, she stands there for a moment, wide eyed and shocked, before the sudden splash of vivid red blood arching through the air kicked in instinct.

Turning away from the cornucopia, she ran.

[cried]

Having already obtained her knife and bag, Lily had tried her best on distancing herself from the other tributes.

Let us repeat this, she had tried.

The sound of someone running behind her immediately brought panic, turning on her heel. Not even bothering to point her knife in the direction of the sound, Lily had noticed that Lottie had been completely unarmed.

[needsaprince]

Lottie, running forward blindly, let out a shriek when she saw the other figure.

And then saw she was a little blond girl.

"Oh...oh my lord you gave me quite a scare darling."

[forgetfulmind]

It's only the heat of running that keeps her warm. Thank god for all those evening games of basketball with the guys, because otherwise she'd be out of breath, gasping, ready to die.

When the Cornucopia is out of sight -- really out of sight -- she slows to a fast jog (well, as fast as she can go, anyway), slides the quiver of arrows over her shoulder, and starts criss-crossing her way up the mountain. Higher ground is better, right?

She hopes she dries out sooner rather than later, but given how humid this place is, she doesn't really expect it.

[c_sec]

You'd have to be insane to run for the Cornucopia from the start. It's a tactical nightmare-- an open space with 23 anxious and desperate humans? Insane. Garrus is no stranger to death, but he he wants to try and win this, so he runs the opposite way-- he doesn't even bother looking back.

He's pretty much screwed for food if his sponsors don't go through-- and his knowledge of earth fauna is absolutely zero, so he's not taking any chances with plants, either. First, he'd find some high ground, second, find a nearby source of freshwater. His running takes him into the forest-- if he can just climb up a cliff and stay there, he should be safe for the night, at least. That, and some water, but it looks like that won't be hard to find here.

Staying close to a water source was probably the best place to take people out, too. Even without a weapon, a well-aimed rock could do some damage. Humans may not have a lot of fashion sense, but at least his pockets should be good for something.

Lily

[cried]

Lily is unable to breathe while she listens to the countdown. Her stomach doing flips, her heart beating against her chest as she's grabbing on some kind of courage to keep herself from becoming afraid.

To keep the DOG as far away as she possibly could, though she knew this will prove to be useless later on.

Her eyes scan around the area, noticing the others have their eyes set on whatever weapons or escape possible. Once her eyes see both a bag and knife just calling out her name, Lily gulps as she listens to the final seconds of the countdown.

3 - 2 - 1.

She immediately kicks off the pedestal, heading straight for her bag while paying attention to the other tributes.

Her body is light, and she makes it to her ideal bag and weapon much quicker than she could imagine. Peaking over her shoulder, Lily pays attention to the other tributes movements before she decides to quickly make her way out of the water. The lower half of her body drenched due to the chilling water, Lily pushed herself to quickly sprint towards the woods in order to distance herself from the others.

[thetributes]

He feels a fool for running. For half a moment, he finds himself glad to know how unlikely it would be for his father to be watching this. Watching his son flee for his life like a scared child.

Brady is a fit young man. Athletic. Agile. But his heart is pounding so hard and his breath is coming so fast that his body is thrown into overdrive. He's got so much adrenaline, he doesn't know what to do with himself.

He doesn't see her until he's almost on top of her. She's practically half his size, and yet he stares at her as though she'll leap at him and tear out his throat.

[Doing a little backtagging! P.S. this guy dies... if you want to have some fun with that!]

[cried]

Though she may appear tiny and not near as fast as the other tributes, Lily manages to surprise others with her speed and stamina. Finding her own breathing pattern, but it's more than obvious with the tint of fear in her eyes that in all reality she was nothing more than a shaking child. Heart pounding against her chest, enough for her to feel every beat in her ears as she does her best to try to avoid anyone else.

The fear had settled in, the DOG's voice was slowly sliding in and out of her reality. That is, until she hears an extra pair of foot steps behind her. She doesn't even understand why she turned her head, since it only took so much more until every inch of reality would be controlled by that monster she did her best to desperately hide.

Unfortunately, fate was not on her side when it came down to not exposing that part of her she hated most about herself. Once she saw the towering man behind her, eyes immediately widen with every last bit of fear she could find, and that familiar voice had practically growled in her ears.

Come on! Come on! You're scared, right? It's okay, I'll press the switch, and then everything will be fun!

No matter how much she mentally protested, Lily's once brightly lit world was now surrounded by black as the monster had finally clawed its way out.

No yelp or cry for help, but a low growl escaped from her throat as she turned quickly on her heel. Though her genetically enhanced powers had been terribly reduced, it didn't stop the DOG from doing exactly what the other tribute had predicted. Tiny fingers curling around the handle of the knife she was more than glad to have received, the last thing the male would see was a nothing more than a sick and twisted smile of a dog with bared fangs.

Quickly turning on her heels, the young girl had found herself lucky enough to have reached the male's neck. The blade so easily slicing through skin as the crimson coloured liquid quickly poured and hit against her skin, before quickly turning in order for the body to tumble hard against the ground.

As the dog, she enjoyed this. The thrill and excitement she was able to achieve when taking another persons life. But as the girl, as Lily, nothing more than regret and mistrust against herself came once she had returned from the black.

Bright blue eyes had returned, looking at the fallen body before her heart desperately sank into the deepest parts of her chest. Looking at the blade still in her hands as she was unable to find the voice to scream and cry with the realization that the monster she so desperately wanted to escape from was no where from gone.

Tears quickly filled her eyes, as she knelt down in the puddle of blood that the DOG had created. A shaking, hesitant hand reaching out to the - what she hoped - life before her. Only to find out that her actions had lead to a swift and painful death, "I'm sorry..." She whispers, to where she took a moment to hide her face in those tiny hands of hers. The hands of a murderer. A monster.

"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry."

With obviously nothing more for her to do, the young girl slowly made her way up. Taking another glance towards the dead tribute before she finally ran through the entrance of the woods.