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thearena2014-05-17 03:17 pm
etcircenses) wrote in thearena2014-05-17 03:17 pm
Entry tags:
- ! arena 10,
- cassandra marko,
- clara murphy,
- commander shepard,
- roland deschain,
- the grand highblood,
- the signless,
- ✘ alex murphy,
- ✘ brainiac 5,
- ✘ bucky barnes (616),
- ✘ carlos the scientist,
- ✘ clementine,
- ✘ co,
- ✘ courfeyrac,
- ✘ cuthbert allgood,
- ✘ deanna winchester,
- ✘ diana ladris,
- ✘ donatello,
- ✘ enjolras,
- ✘ fili,
- ✘ gannicus,
- ✘ hanji zoe,
- ✘ hawkeye pierce,
- ✘ ian chesterton,
- ✘ jack frost,
- ✘ jaime reyes,
- ✘ joel,
- ✘ kevin,
- ✘ marius pontmercy,
- ✘ max guevara,
- ✘ nasir,
- ✘ natasha romanoff,
- ✘ orc,
- ✘ r,
- ✘ red sonja,
- ✘ riley abel,
- ✘ rock lee,
- ✘ rokk krinn,
- ✘ ruffnut thorston,
- ✘ some ovmennet,
- ✘ starkiller,
- ✘ steve rogers,
- ✘ susannah dean,
- ✘ topher brink,
- ✘ venus dee milo,
- ✘ vriska serket
ARENA 10-Placid Hollow
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.
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.
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,.
2
1
The gong rings out, and the countdown's voice announces "the Arena is now open". The Games have begun.
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Really, he's more surprised at the comment of "friend", and he hasn't the faintest idea what a jesus is. But Mirth be damned, he'll take it.
"Nearly cracked your motherfucking skull, don't a brother know," He says, just short of laughing. "MESSIAHS HAVE BORN MOON OVER YOU, MOTHERFUCKER."
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"Mercy, I'd no idea you were quite so tall." He does smile then, figuring he must eventually get used to the trolls who populate the Arenas and the Capitol. "You must be faring quite well indeed."
no subject
"Fear fucking not, it ain't prevalent for his whole kind. AIN'T EVEN COMMON," He amends.
"And how has a brother's own self faired? HAVEN'T SEEN FOR FUCK ALL. Haven't got a gander on for no one. BUT YOU." If nothing, he could offer something of his own claim... but he's still too much of a troll, invested in his own survival to think of such. No, it was generous enough to let him live. He had to craft something for Capitol.
no subject
He was still left mystified by the commanding presence before him, but managed to collect himself before he gawked for too long. "I have not seen anyone else as of yet. This fog is so thick. I cannot make heads or tails of this place. All I can see is mist."
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"Ain't no better for he. IF IT WERE LIKE ONLY TO BE OF DARKNESS HE'D BE JUST DAMN FINE BUT CAPITOL COULDN'T UP AND DREAM ACTUALLY PROCURING SOMETHING MOTHERFUCKING CONVENIENT." He makes a nosie crossed between exasperation and disgust.
He breathes deep. "Can tell there's water though. IT'S OFF IN IT SOMEWAYS. Not manufactured up whole and entire. LIVED BY OCEAN, THE FUCK BEFORE. Ain't usually this damn much if not for that and circumstance shit, but there's still trace of water up in it." He looks at courfeyrac, eyes blinking open. "SOMETHING WHAT TO WATCH FOR. Maybe if we're lucky it ain't poisoned." His laugh is dry.
no subject
"Now, my friend, wherever are you wandering to? You are in search of your friends, no doubt."
no subject
He smirks and it's empty. It don't reach his eyes. "Should make as to fix that soonlike. HE'S SURE THERE'S A MOTHERFUCKER WHAT CAN BE ABOUT SCHOOLFEEDING A BROTHER THE STROKE AND STRIDE THROUGH WATERS. Drowning ain't a thing what he'd want none either." He shrugs off the shudder. He ain't got time for fear of such.
"IF THERE'S ANY WHAT YOU AIN'T WANT DEAD, DON'T LET THEM NEAR," He warns.
no subject
no subject