ARENA 02- let's get this party started

[gamemakers]

There is a different tension in the air. This is the first time anyone has been returning to the arena, and it changes things. For the tributes that know, for those prepping them. It's all under the surface, waiting. The prep goes the same as before.

The tributes are taken from the Training Center, one by one, and placed into the hovercraft that will take them on a long, tense ride to the Arena. New tributes have a tracking device implants in their arm, old tributes have their's activated, a move so similar, so swift it would be hard to notice.

Left alone with their stylist, each tribute is dressed quickly, light colors, cotton fabric, sturdy boots. Nothing waterproof, and nothing that will help against cold, dark nights. Then they are set into the clear tubes, and go up to whatever waits above while the voice counts down.

25 - 24 - 23 - 22 - 21

It late evening, but the summer sun is still high and the day is hot over the ruined city that rises up around them. The air shimmers with it, hot, heavy, pressing down on the tributes.

18 - 17 - 16 - 15

The cornucopia, the only bright, new thing in sight besides the pedestals they stand on shimmer brilliantly in the sun, all the life saving supplies scattered around in, tempting and deadly.

9 - 8 - 7

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

4 - 3

2

The sound of the gong releasing them echos into the empty streets. Let the games begin.


[OOC: Don't forget the OOC Arena post, especially those of you running for the Cornucopia. 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

Re: CORNUCOPIA

[the_marshal]

For a moment, as his pedestal raises into the light, all Wyatt could feel was the sun and heat, beating down on him; and for moment it felt like home.

But then he blinked the brightness out of his eyes and everything else came into focus. The looming towers of brick and steel, the shining Cornucopia, and the others - his fellow tributes scattered out around him.

Young and old, man and woman, several... Jesus, not even human.

What was this place?

Lost in his confusion, he lost all track of the countdown and by the time he recovered from the start of the gong the others were off their pedestals and racing for the supplies laying willy-nilly.

Instinct kicking in, he raced after them.

[buildingreality]

Ariadne's done this before. After a cursory glance around to see what exactly they're getting themselves into, she's focused again on the Cornucopia; it worked well for her last time, keeping her alive for far longer than she thinks she would have otherwise.

It's hot, but that doesn't much prevent her from racing towards the pile of bags. She'll take whatever she can get at this point - she doesn't see any weapons. That's a problem.

She spies someone else out of the corner of her eye as she runs, grateful for being so petite and having practised her running before coming into this Arena; she's sure that he's going for the bags, too. Another problem.

[the_marshal]

He picked a bag - it was a little further out than two gleaming cans, but bags would hold more. And who knew what would be hidden inside?

Something practical, maybe. Something useful.

Like a revolver.

He felt so naked without his.

Heart pounding in his ears, boots thudding off the hard, broken ground, he ran, closing in. To his left he caught a flash - something small and dark - and urged himself faster....

...And then his boot caught on an uneven lip of stone and he went down.

Hard.

[buildingreality]

The bags were infinitely more useful, too.

But for a split second, as Ariadne watched him go down from the corner of her eye, she faltered, wondering if she should stop and help him up. It got her far enough last time, earning her an alliance or to. But this time?

She couldn't just keep doing the same thing; it would lose her sponsors for certain. He went down of his own failings, though her heart was in her throat as she glanced back at him, eyes wide.

[the_marshal]

Stars, white and blue and painful, burst in his vision, sending everything sideways and funny.

He struggled to get up, to find his feet... but failed, and went down again. He blinked rapidly, trying to see, and reached out blindly.

[buildingreality]

Some of the previous Tributes had been of the mind that if they were going down, others were going down with them. Even if she'd wanted to scream - she didn't; it wouldn't get her anywhere - she couldn't have through the knot in her throat. It was kill or be killed out here.

So she lashed out, kicking out hard with one foot, and glanced around quickly for the nearest object she could use in case he tried that again.

[the_marshal]

More pain. Both from the boot and from the ground as his head snapped back.

Darkness crept in, the colors and the sun fading out. He coughed, gagging on something warm and sticky in his mouth, and then settled. Eyes glassy and distant.

It wasn't so bad. Not nearly as bad as he'd ever imagined anyways.

In the black, with the heat pressing down, it was almost like being back in Dodge again. And that... that was okay.

A twitch, one last instinctive impulse, and then he was gone.

[buildingreality]

In a place like this, where if you turned your back on anyone, she knew she had to make sure. Not, however, by checking his pulse - that was far too close contact for her to guarantee her safety - but by snatching up the can she'd spotted, and slamming it against his temple just for good measure.

He wasn't moving, though. A good sign, as the Arena went, though it still hadn't quite set in that she'd made her first kill. Staring down at him for a moment, Ariadne let the can tumble from her hand, bloodsplattered and too heavy, before making a mad dash through the other Tributes for the bag she'd previously set her eyes on.

[jadaryl]

Eliot felt sick as he watched the clearly frightened girl kill the fallen man. He slipped over the edge of a crater, rolling as he fell. He frowned and rolled to his feet. He forced his mind back to the task at hand. He climbed his way out of the crater, making his way forward more cautiously. After what happened to the other man, he couldn't afford to fall again.

[polyturtle]

Don, too, saw what happened. But only briefly. He knew - knew - if he stopped and did what he normally did, such as check his pulse, see if he was still alive - he'd be dead.

No. He kept going. He could process it later. Right now he filed it away, did his best to remember the person responsible for attack. Watch out for her if he could.

Keep. going...