etcircenses: (Default)
Panem Events ([personal profile] etcircenses) wrote in [community profile] thearena2014-05-17 03:17 pm

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.
formersurgeon: (calm)

[personal profile] formersurgeon 2014-06-08 03:38 am (UTC)(link)
"Actually, I can use the brine to clean your wound. It's not optimal, but it's better than just leaving it. I'm going to need to bind it, though. Give me your shirt."

She stepped back, giving him room to take the shirt off.

"You probably ran into Max. Although she's not the only kid here you have to be careful of."
allbloodyhail: (pic#6375718)

[personal profile] allbloodyhail 2014-06-08 03:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Spike nodded, like he needed an actual excuse to pop his shirt off. As long as the fog held up he was good. He handed it over and dug around for the pickle-jar in his pack. "You want some?" he asked, before handing that over too.

"Max, yeah. Yeah. Sure it was her. Not that we had time for introductions... Between the wrench-throwing and running for my life and whatnot."
Edited (doing tags half asleep is unadvisable) 2014-06-08 15:01 (UTC)
formersurgeon: (b&w)

[personal profile] formersurgeon 2014-06-08 06:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Joan took the shirt and the pickle jar, setting the latter on the ground and tearing the former into four inch wide strips.

"Yeah, the Cornucopia is not exactly the best time to meet people. The one time I went for it, I got my knee destroyed. Not fun to deal with that for the next month and a half."

She bunched up one of the strips, screwed the cap off of the pickle jar, and carefully poured some of the brine onto the cloth.

"Okay," she said as she set the jar down. "This is going to sting."

She started to clean the wound, as gentle as possible.