The Gamemakers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thearena2012-11-10 10:49 am
gamemakers) wrote in thearena2012-11-10 10:49 am
ARENA 04-Decay
For some this is starting to be routine. For some it is new, and little is done to ease them into it. The peacekeepers are never warm on these flights, but they are rougher, quieter today, and after having their tracking devices inserted or reactivated, the tributes don't see them until they are lead to small, metal rooms.
They are dressed quietly by their stylist, and the stylist move quicker this time, dressing them in heavy cargo pants, boots, thick socks, an undershirt and sweater. A light, plastic jacket is laid over the top, with a hood and plenty of pockets.
They are lead to tubes, with a reminder not to leave the pedestal. The tubes are metal this time, thick, the door sliding closed over them and leaving the tributes in the small, dark area. Entombed until they start the smooth rise to the surface.
25 - 24 - 23
Rising to the surfaces, they can see before them a building, ravished by time but still standing. Behind it, cliffs fall to the ocean, glittering in the sun for miles and miles, a dark blue distance that offers no escape. Behind them, the last trails of fog lead into a forest, still spotted with the lingering remains of the buildings that had once stood there. The air is cool, crisp, and the warmth of the sweater can be appreciated quickly.
20 - 19 - 18 - 17 - 16
One wall of the building before them is gone, exposing deep into the building's heart. There, about 50 yards into the ruins, lies the cornucopia. It's weapons and supplies are scattered among the ruins, dropped haphazardly among crumbling walls and exposed rebar.
11- 10 - 9 - 8
Warned not to move from their pedestals, they are given the last 10 seconds to plans their attack.
5
4
3
2
The gong sounds, clear in the crisp air. Let the games begin.
[OOC: Check here if your character ran for the cornucopia to see your results. Post here to play those out.
Characters on reserve have until Wednesday, Nov 14th to be eligible to tag into this arena and this post, but anyone who did not sign up for the Cornucopia will be handwaved as having not not been part of the Cornucopia battle.]
They are dressed quietly by their stylist, and the stylist move quicker this time, dressing them in heavy cargo pants, boots, thick socks, an undershirt and sweater. A light, plastic jacket is laid over the top, with a hood and plenty of pockets.
They are lead to tubes, with a reminder not to leave the pedestal. The tubes are metal this time, thick, the door sliding closed over them and leaving the tributes in the small, dark area. Entombed until they start the smooth rise to the surface.
25 - 24 - 23
Rising to the surfaces, they can see before them a building, ravished by time but still standing. Behind it, cliffs fall to the ocean, glittering in the sun for miles and miles, a dark blue distance that offers no escape. Behind them, the last trails of fog lead into a forest, still spotted with the lingering remains of the buildings that had once stood there. The air is cool, crisp, and the warmth of the sweater can be appreciated quickly.
20 - 19 - 18 - 17 - 16
One wall of the building before them is gone, exposing deep into the building's heart. There, about 50 yards into the ruins, lies the cornucopia. It's weapons and supplies are scattered among the ruins, dropped haphazardly among crumbling walls and exposed rebar.
11- 10 - 9 - 8
Warned not to move from their pedestals, they are given the last 10 seconds to plans their attack.
5
4
3
2
The gong sounds, clear in the crisp air. Let the games begin.
[OOC: Check here if your character ran for the cornucopia to see your results. Post here to play those out.
Characters on reserve have until Wednesday, Nov 14th to be eligible to tag into this arena and this post, but anyone who did not sign up for the Cornucopia will be handwaved as having not not been part of the Cornucopia battle.]
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Eliot gave his brother a last brief glance and shook his head. He turned his gaze back to the Cornucopia, eyeing what he'd aim for.
3, 2, 1, 0.
His feet left the ground as soon as the countdown ended, charging in toward the supplies and weapons. The machete would be his best option and he ran toward it, pausing briefly to grab a bag.
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At least until he got his hands on a real weapon.
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By then Eliot was past her and gone. Thank the gods. Time to scram, herself: one of the bigger Tributes was headed her way, and she didn't want to see what he was going to do to her. She made like a rabbit for the trees, herself.