ARENA 10-Placid Hollow

[etcircenses]

The Tributes are taken early in the morning, most of their support teams seeming in good cheer as they dress them in warm clothes, getting them to their tubes. There is obvious comfort in the familiar for the prep teams, and they chatter with, or in some cases, over the heads of their Tributes as they get them ready and load them up.

20

19

18…

If the Tributes could see the area they are passed up into, they would see a deeply overgrown, dilapidated town green, with a large bandstand rotting away in the middle. The spoils of the cornucopia are not gathered in one spot, instead scattered throughout the thigh high grass and weeds around the town green.

Around the edge of the green, the old business stand a silent sentry, looming out of the fog as it thins and winds into them, providing much desired cover.

8

7

6…

But the Tributes cannot see the ground around them. The fog, thicker even than it will be in the rest of the arena, makes the world small around them. The sound of the count down echoes strangely, the tributes seeming too close as the fog brings sounds of their breath, their coughing, the snap of twigs under their feet right to ears of the other Tributes. But with the fog bringing visibility down to only a few feet, it's hard to tell what is a true danger, and what is only the fog playing tricks on them,.

3

2

1

The gong rings out, and the countdown's voice announces "the Arena is now open". The Games have begun.

Comments

also wow i switched tenses in my last tag i'm gomen

[saisamour]

Marius could have stumbled over the bag of supplies.

Instead, it caught his eye the last minute. He leaped over to it, an arm extending to reach for it. It helped, somehow, the constant movement; helped to shut out the screams and sounds of objects beating or stabbing against flesh and the last cries of the soon-to-be dead.

By the time he had noticed the other hand aiming for the same bag it was already too late; self-sacrificing thoughts gave in to muscle reflex, and he tugged it towards him automatically.

no worries!

[saveswithsong]

He felt the resistance on the strap before he realized there was a person there. No, this wasn't right. He should have heard or smelled them coming. He jerked harder on the bag, and swung out with the crowbar in his other hand, hooked claw end hurtling toward some squishy part of Marius. This way, there was no way he would miss him. He was not going to let go of this now that it was his.

[saisamour]

Maybe it was the horror at the realization of what he'd just done that thrust Marius in to temporary paralysis. The moment he noticed the crowbar, it was already too late. He heard the dull, sickening stab of metal through skin, the cracking of bone. He released a pained cry, and his fingers loosened on the bag.

He fell onto his side, the sharp pebbles scratching at his palm as he tried to break his fall. He realized, vaguely, that the crowbar was still stuck to him, before another jolt of pain sent tears bursting through his eyes and his vision to grow white.

[saveswithsong]

Well, that did the trick. But there was a problem with crowbars as a weapon. They tended to grab on. He slung the bag across his shoulders and went over to Marius.

"Hold still," he told him. He rolled him onto his back with his foot and pressed his boot down onto his sternum. He took a moment to consider the angle the thing had gone in before he set to yanking it out. "Your terrible luck continues, Monsieur Pontmercy."

[saisamour]

Through the blurriness caused both by the fog and the pain coursing through him Marius could barely register the words of his attacker. He groaned as he was shifted and hissed at the weight on his chest. "W-What...?"

He wanted to raise his hand to rub at his eyes, but a sudden sting coursed through his collarbone when he did. He released a short cry and his hand fell back onto the ground.

Despite all, hearing his name managed to raise some confusion in him. He was fairly certain he did not recognize the voice. "Who... Who are y—" But a startled and pained cry left him at the sudden yank, and he was not able to finish his demand.

[saveswithsong]

He had tried to not be vicious about it, but crowbars were messy weapons. He bent down and pressed Marius's own hand, the one opposite to the wound, to the spot the crowbar had occupied. "Keep it there." What the hell was he doing? If the guy bled out here that would only do him a favor.

[saisamour]

Marius probably questioned, vaguely, why the very same person who attacked him was leading his hand to the wound. But another searing, blinding pain shot through him, and all he could do was bite down his lower lip until he could taste a metallic tang at the tip of his tongue and pray that the agony passed quickly.

And then he murmured, through his near-delirium, "Forgive me, I did not..." A deep breath, and then, "intend to steal what was yours."