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)
thearena2014-01-18 02:35 pm
etcircenses) wrote in thearena2014-01-18 02:35 pm
Entry tags:
- ! arena 09,
- aunamee,
- cassandra marko,
- commander shepard,
- harley quinn,
- joan watson,
- karkat vantas,
- matthew "punchy" o'connor,
- sigma klim,
- terezi pyrope,
- the grand highblood,
- the signless,
- wyatt earp,
- ✘ barbara gordon,
- ✘ beck,
- ✘ brainiac 5,
- ✘ carlos the scientist,
- ✘ cinderella,
- ✘ courfeyrac,
- ✘ cuthbert allgood,
- ✘ danny fenton,
- ✘ deanna winchester,
- ✘ diana ladris,
- ✘ donatello,
- ✘ dr. holiday,
- ✘ eliot spencer,
- ✘ ellie,
- ✘ eponine thenardier,
- ✘ eren,
- ✘ gabriel,
- ✘ garrus vakarian,
- ✘ hans,
- ✘ hawkeye pierce,
- ✘ homura akemi,
- ✘ howard bassem,
- ✘ ian chesterton,
- ✘ ian gallagher,
- ✘ iskierka,
- ✘ jean kirschtein,
- ✘ john watson,
- ✘ julian bashir,
- ✘ justin law,
- ✘ kain highwind,
- ✘ kankri vantas,
- ✘ kili,
- ✘ leonard mccoy,
- ✘ lindsey mcdonald,
- ✘ max guevara,
- ✘ mindy macready,
- ✘ mouse,
- ✘ nepeta leijon,
- ✘ orc,
- ✘ perry kelvin,
- ✘ pruna,
- ✘ r,
- ✘ rat,
- ✘ ruby lucas,
- ✘ sam winchester,
- ✘ sherlock holmes (bbc),
- ✘ shion,
- ✘ some ovmennet,
- ✘ starkiller,
- ✘ subaru sumeragi,
- ✘ susannah dean,
- ✘ the disciple,
- ✘ venus dee milo,
- ✘ willow,
- ✘ zelos wilder
ARENA 09 - THE MUSEUM
The Tributes are woken up early for this Arena, and switched from whatever sleeping attire they're currently in to a set of pajamas, each designed for the individual in questions. Women wear onesies, and most of the men wear two-pieces, but other than that any similarities are at random - the outfits are in all sorts of colors and patterns.
The floor of the helicopter taking them to their Arena location, and of the underground entrance to the tubes that hoist them to the surface, will feel cold under their bare feet.
Rather than bringing them to sunlight, like the tubes have in the past, instead the Tributes are presented to a dark concrete ceiling in a badly-lit parking lot. Fluorescent lights do little to illuminate the cavernous space.
The countdown begins, announced as if from far away.
20
19
18…
The Cornucopia, a ghastly thing carved from stone and concrete, sits at the center of a pattern of white and yellow lines reminiscent of spots for parked cars. The painted lines create a sort of spoked wheel, providing lanes for the Tributes leading to the prizes at the center. Some of the more unfortunate Tributes will find the concrete architecture has placed pillars in their lanes.
8
7
6…
Six parked cars lie around the outskirts of the huge lot, barely visible in the dim lighting. Glowing exit signs on two opposite sides of the chamber announce where Tributes should go to escape the bloodbath. Elevator doors are perched beneath them.
3
2
1
The gong rings out, and the countdown's voice announces "the Arena is now open". The Games have begun.
The floor of the helicopter taking them to their Arena location, and of the underground entrance to the tubes that hoist them to the surface, will feel cold under their bare feet.
Rather than bringing them to sunlight, like the tubes have in the past, instead the Tributes are presented to a dark concrete ceiling in a badly-lit parking lot. Fluorescent lights do little to illuminate the cavernous space.
The countdown begins, announced as if from far away.
19
18…
The Cornucopia, a ghastly thing carved from stone and concrete, sits at the center of a pattern of white and yellow lines reminiscent of spots for parked cars. The painted lines create a sort of spoked wheel, providing lanes for the Tributes leading to the prizes at the center. Some of the more unfortunate Tributes will find the concrete architecture has placed pillars in their lanes.
7
6…
Six parked cars lie around the outskirts of the huge lot, barely visible in the dim lighting. Glowing exit signs on two opposite sides of the chamber announce where Tributes should go to escape the bloodbath. Elevator doors are perched beneath them.
2
1
The gong rings out, and the countdown's voice announces "the Arena is now open". The Games have begun.
Brainiac 5 | OTA
Not that he'd expected any of this to make sense, but it was ridiculous to a degree that bored its way right under his skin. He supposed that was probably the point.
As he stood on his pedestal, hands folded behind his back, his heart started the usual rapid staccato it did in these situations. It was just adrenaline. He wasn't scared. Brainiac 5 didn't do scared in most cases. Amid countless adventures across time and space facing untold numbers of brutal enemies and preternatural forces, there was only one time that Brainy's team-mates had ever seen him shaken and it was after feeling the death of one team-mate at the hand of another over Saturn Girl's telepathic link. They'd all felt Monstress' psyche snuff out like a candle at the hands of the being that had once been Jan Arrah - her pain and fear and betrayal in her last moments - and they'd felt Saturn Girl's shock and horror at witnessing it slam against them like a rogue wave. The moments after that were the only time the Legion had ever heard a stammer in his voice.
This wasn't nearly as traumatizing as that and therefore the fear was carefully kept at bay. His heart pounded but his stomach didn't twist into the coils of fusion wire it could have twisted into.
Still, somehow there was an added dimension to the adrenaline spike he felt as the clock counted down, something he couldn't identify.
10...9...8...
To the Legion I make this -
He wasn't planning on killing and he wasn't altogether that terrified of being killed - if he was interesting enough he might be revived. He'd faced worse odds in the past.
6...5...4...
-solemn pledge - I make this solemn -
So what was it that was weighing so heavily on him? Why, when this was no different than any other dangerous, mad situation he'd faced, did he have such a feeling of foreboding? What about this would be different than any other time he had to try to stay alive against impossible odds?
3...2...1..
To use my powers for good -
The strike of a gong turned the world into bedlam. Everyone else started running for the Cornucopia and the moment they started getting in close, the fighting began.
In some cases, the dying began.
"Ah."
To fight for justice and protect -
That was what was different. That was why he wasn't any more afraid than usual, yet felt as the world had drained of all its color to leave behind empty grey.
To protect the innocent -
They would fight and they would die - some for good - and he could do nothing. At least not yet. All he could do was bear witness, try to survive, and hope the things he did outside the arena would help put an end to the brutality.
Powerlessness in the face of the victimization of innocents - not even just from the lack of his shield powers, also from the situation itself - that was what made all the difference in the world. He'd be a rat in the race this time, instead of someone crashing in from above to break holes in the walls of the maze.
He'd have to watch the other rats tear each other apart, unable to do a thing about it.
To protect the innocent -
Hatred unlike any he'd ever felt before bubbled up molten in his throat. For a moment, the feeling was so strong, he wondered if he'd spontaneously developed the capacity to spew acid.
Yet his face was impassive as ever as he move forward. He unfolded his hands and slipped through the crowd like a green ghost, never running, but moving at brisk pace all the same. Never once did he lash out, simply ducking and dodging blows and flailing limbs with fluid, economical movements and the occasional back bend or flip whenever it was necessary, as if the people around him weren't so much people as obstacles on an obstacle course.
- I make this solemn pledge -
It helped to treat them as obstacles. You didn't try to hurt an obstacle, after all (what was the point?).
And, most importantly of all, pretending they were just things to dodge made it easier to ignore it when one fell to the ground screaming.
To protect the innocent...
Re: Brainiac 5 | OTA
He drops down to his knees to try and help a teenage boy up, but realizes with dismay that the kid's already dead, his head hanging at an insane angle. The boy's eyes are already glassy, staring upwards at the ceiling. Punchy doesn't have time for a battlefield prayer. He closes the kid's eyes and gets back to his feet, leaving that young face looking like he's merely sleeping on the asphalt.
When he and Brainiac end up face to face, hunched over the same bag, it's almost by pure coincidence.
Punchy and Brainiac both pause, hands almost touching on the prize. At home, the audience cranes forward, watching the newbie and the comeback kid face to face, head to head, wondering who will be the first to try and throw a punch, try and grab the good and bludgeon the other with it. The camera catches the tears already running down Punchy's cheeks.
There's a scream from behind them. Punchy pulls his hand back and looks over his shoulder, inadvertently exposing his neck and chest to Brainiac.
no subject
Brainy still remembered XS's miserable crying after her attempts to save a crowd of beach-goers from the ravages of the White Triangle. With an artificially made tsunami hitting the beach, even despite her super-speed there'd only be a few she was able to save, and she'd had to make hard choices in the space of nanoseconds to decide who.
She'd wept afterward as the others assured her she'd done all she could.
Not all of the Legionnaires were like him, or Lyle, or Timber Wolf, the ones who could close off or get their hackles up to fend off the misery. So in Punchy's face, Brainy saw Garth and he saw Ayla and he saw Jasmin crying through her rage. He saw XS and Gates, desperate to change something that could hardly be changed.
He saw the face of every Legionnaire that had ever had their moment of being a scared, sad teen helpless to stop something horrible.
The audience would see that brief flicker of recognition on Brainy's face, as if he was encountering something familiar and far gone.
It was the kind of moment that could launch a thousand ship-fics as well as countless theories about how Brainy was secretly a misunderstood woobie under all the cold, calculating derision.
Then the mask was up again and it was gone.
An arm was flung their way, mostly at Punchy but close enough to Brainy he could justify reacting in self defense rather than his actions seeming purely altruistic. He blocked and kicked the person - a body, just a blur - in the side, with enough force to send them in the other direction and cause some pain, but not enough to cause real harm. The gesture was sure to get Punchy's attention.
no subject
Unfortunately, Punchy isn't paying attention. He's already running to the aid of one Neffa a Reyeth, and his encounter with Brainiac will only be fodder for a reflection many hours later.
no subject
As he grabbed the bag and ran off, taking distinct advantage of years of dodging lasers, atomic axes, and various zingy thingies, the one track still mulling the encounter over flipped through the possibilities, through all the possible answers to the question: "What kind of moronic teenager runs around at the beginning of a death match trying to save people?"
There really was only one viable answer.
Back when the Legionnaires were still in their teens, it was the same one he and every one of his team-mates could have found by looking in a mirror.