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thearena2014-07-23 09:43 pm
etcircenses) wrote in thearena2014-07-23 09:43 pm
Mini Arena 2
Tributes are woken early, and the hovercraft ride is a long one. Not the longest some have experienced, but they are clearly going far.
25 - 24 - 23
They land on the deck of the boat, and are ushered underneath, to the lower levels, quickly. Their stylists go from cabin to cabin, decking them out in over the top finery, before loading them into the pods installed into the corners of the rooms.
20 - 19 - 18 - 17 - 16
The platforms lift them up, and they are all ringed around a grand buffet table, loaded with a grand feast looking ready to sag down from the weight. Among the food are supplies, plenty of them, all for the taking.
11- 10 - 9 - 8
They've all been warned, don't step off your pedestal early. They have also been warned to put on a good show. That's all this is about, a good show. None of them have been told that there can be multiple winners this time around.
5 - 4
3
2
The sound of the gong plays crystal clear across the opening. The games have begun.
25 - 24 - 23
They land on the deck of the boat, and are ushered underneath, to the lower levels, quickly. Their stylists go from cabin to cabin, decking them out in over the top finery, before loading them into the pods installed into the corners of the rooms.
20 - 19 - 18 - 17 - 16
The platforms lift them up, and they are all ringed around a grand buffet table, loaded with a grand feast looking ready to sag down from the weight. Among the food are supplies, plenty of them, all for the taking.
11- 10 - 9 - 8
They've all been warned, don't step off your pedestal early. They have also been warned to put on a good show. That's all this is about, a good show. None of them have been told that there can be multiple winners this time around.
5 - 4
3
2
The sound of the gong plays crystal clear across the opening. The games have begun.
Re: Cornucopia+Explosion
And he knows, immediately, when he's brought here-- so soon after the last arena-- what exactly is about to up and go down. Way down to depths deep. And he is grateful he trained because he's barely resisting making a scramble who the fuck knows where as they dress him. His palms are already bleeding and dripping indigo where his claws are sunk in and the stylists tut that he's getting all the wrong color on his nonsensical orange.
Every instinct is screaming, every learned habit. Inidigos aren't supposed to go in the water, they're supposed to stay on the shores and wait there. They're not supposed to go on boats, they shouldn't even be near them, that was for seadwellers and pan-crazed lunatics a.k.a gamblignants. The sea is not for him, he knows that dammit, he learned so long ago, he knows.
But do these people give a squeakbeasts ass about what is right and true and all as well as being law? Of course not.
He keeps his face firm as he can make it, teeth grinding. He will not let his body betray him. He runs when the countdown finishes, and that eases, being able to do something instinctive in the midst of all this, while still conducive to survival. He reaches, but the boom goes off before he's even touched a thing. There's a split second where, across his face, panic can be seen. Then it's gone again.
Goggles he won't need, he's close enough to seadweller that his eyes can work for the underwater sight, the wetsuit ain't of no use. He grabs the knife, sticks it in the suit coat. He grabs some chains, slinging them around his shoulder, a rope too why they fuck not, he can use it to tie... what the fuck is that? A strange vest, a tank of something. He hasn't the faintest idea what those can be used for. His hands hover over them as he wars with grabbing them anyway and making a run for it now because he can hear the water rushing and rising to swallow him.
no subject
Lee's senses were on fire; it was like the explosion had woken him right out of sleep. He could feel the boat rocking beneath his feet, hearing the water starting to bubble. He's been on boats before, but never one with multiple levels. And never one that was starting to sink, while he wasn't on the top deck...
He hoped it wouldn't happen. He really, really hoped...
After grabbing a few supplies, Lee started to follow the man in the orange suit, but he was starting to feel a little dizzy. And soon after started the nausea. The more the boat rocked, the worse it grew. Out of all the shinobi back at home, it was only him and Gai-sensai that really grew seasick. Motion sickness? Nah. Just seasickness.
Lee started to stumble, trying to move ahead of the guy in the orange suit before the inevitable happened. He took one step ahead, two...but fell in the middle of the hall.
And there went his lunch, right in front of the scary guy with the orange suit.
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The spew splatters on the floor and onto his shoes, dirtying the ends of his pants. He is not a seadweller and so it isn't as if he really cares about the clothing he's been given. And sure, he's been blood coated but blood is sacred.
That, however, is not. (And maybe some ghost of something deep inside ain't so pleased.) His eyes narrow.
He growls and does one single shake of his head as he reaches down, yanks this fool up and says, "MOTHERFUCKER, I AM AT TO HAVING NEITHER THE TIME NOR MOTHERFUCKING PATIENCE TO BE ABOUT AMENDING TO THIS HOOFBEASTSHIT. Mirth dammit, you could as least have got at it to be elsewhere."
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...This was kind of pushing it.
He felt his stomach lurch as the stranger picked him up, and spurted the most fowl language that Lee had ever heard. Sure, Naruto or Sakura swore sometimes, but not to this extent. If Lee had any guts that weren't turning to jelly, he'd ask this guy to tone down his language. But that wasn't a good idea right now. "It, it was not intentional..."
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That said, he's not exactly raging, just mildly agitated. It was the topper to an already great day.
"BETTER NOT HAVE BEEN," He remarks with a huff and another shake of his head. "What all's the matter with you? YOU POISONED? All gone of a poisoning has this motherfucker?"
If so the Initiate would have to know what. If it was the water itself, well, at least the end would be quick enough.
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"I, I get seasick!" Lee really, really didn't want to die this way. He was a ninja- he was supposed to be cool and sneaky and easy to rely on...but that really wasn't the case with him now, was it? He felt like poop and he was covered in puke and it was all thanks to this ship. "I just get sick on boats! When they rock, it makes me feel unwell!"
Please do not kill me for vomiting on your shoes...
omg baby
"WELL, THERE'S MOTHERFUCKING THAT THEN," He says, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I ain't know as how to up and help you, motherfucker, I don't do ships. LEST ALL YOU WISH ON STRIFING HIM SO HE CAN END YOU EARLY. All what he can think is find somewhere what ain't here to get up and out of the rest."
He makes a noise that sounds like a disgusted 'bluh'.
heheheheeeee!
Lee winced as the other raised his voice, trying to pull himself up to his feet. He eventually accomplished this, trying his hardest to not get too close to the other (and if nausea set in, to direct his head somewhere else...). He had a feeling this guy was over getting puked on and dealing with someone who got sick on boats.
"Perhaps-" Lee coughed. "Perhaps I can help you out of the boat?"
no subject
"MOTHERFUCKER YOU AIN'T HARDLY ABLE TO STAND. Shouldn't a motherfucker be about worrying on his ownself? WOULD BE A SHAMEFUL WAY TO DIE, TURNED DOWN IN ONE'S OWN SICK," He points out.
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"What are you doing? There's no time to waste." Sigma had come straight for the Initiate, having read his own anxiety in the Initiate's body language. A moment passes and he realizes the Initiate may not be frozen out of fear, but out of ignorance.
He clears his throat and speaks quickly. "Do you know what this is? It's a compressed oxygen tank. It will allow you to breathe underwater for a short time." Sigma could not know how much oxygen it contained (judging by the size, it was likely not much), but it was better than nothing. Sigma hoists it onto his back - his cybernetic body has little trouble handling the extra weight. "I will carry it for you. You should probably secure yourself a life vest, as well..."
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And of course Sigma is here. Messiahs... he shouldn't have expected Sigma be given saving grace as one of Capitol's own, especially not so soon. But perhaps some part of him hoped.
He shakes his head when asked what it is and Sigma illuminates. He's downright floored with what he learns and it's shows on his face with the way his eys go round. An item that would let one breath under water? How could that be possible? How all did it even work? Motherfuck, the seadwellers would've destroyed the landwellers, like he, for daring to think of such an invention.
Sigma takes the tank off his hands, though Initiate is more than strong enough to carry it. "A LIFE VEST?" He repeats. He grabs one of the so-called life vests, lifting it up. "What does it do?" He half expects Sigma to tell him it extends life as like the Empress touch in myth, proved true by the suffering his moirail had faced. He doesn't need that, his life is already going to be too long, if he can just stop dying in these arenas anyway.
"HAVE YOU BEEN SHIPBOUND BEFORE? Ain't you need one of them breather-miracles?"
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The Initiate's question knocks the air out of his lungs. He wipes sweat from his brow, forever sympathetic for the two dear women in his life. "I haven't," His response is blunt, and only reluctantly followed with, "But, I know some who have been." He clears his throat. "Initiate, I am not certain my body can be submerged. When I created my cybernetic eye, it was under the assumption that I would never swim again." He had a special, watertight patch for showers (which, of course, is nowhere to be seen in the Cornucopia's spoils), and the goggles provided here would not fit snugly on his face. He takes a pair anyway, deciding they would be better than nothing. "My arms are made of metal, and my cybernetic eye is not waterproof. I may sink, or be electrocuted to death. It is better if I avoid water in the first place, if you know what I mean." It was dry ship, treaded water, or death.
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"I CAN SWIM!" He says sudden. "He used t- Da would go and he'd try-" He tries not to look like the idea is horrifying. Like attempting to swim after his lusus wasn't beaten and stabbed and cut out of him by his fifth sweep. He grabs a pair of goggles quick. "MY BLOOD MAKES AS FOR ME TO BE STRONGER. I should be able to keep a motherfucker afloat for at least a while. SEEN SOME SEADWELLERS WHAT ALL COULD DRAG FULL GROWN LUSII WITH JUST THEIR HANDS. He's only a color down it should be something what all he can do." If capitol hasn't taken that too, lay implicit. But it's the best he's got.
"WOULD THESE HELP?" He holds the goggles out. "With a brother's eye?" Because the idea they ain't going in water up at all is a futile one at best.
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He accepts them. He will dispose of his own pair later. It's for the Initiate's benefit that he puts on a smile, slides the supply into his pocket and pats the fabric to remind himself of its weight. "I am certain that these will do fine." He imagines the Initiate trying to keep them both afloat in an emergency and the other's inevitable refusal to release him. Realizing he will be naught but a liability now, Sigma pulls the oxygen tank from his back and hands it to the Initiate. "...Perhaps you should go on your own. You will have more opportunities to escape than I will; I shall seek my own way out. Put the mask on and turn this crank counter-clockwise to release the oxygen when you need it."
no subject
He listens to the instructions, breathes deep, and steels himself. He's a subjugglator. He can't depend all on anyone so. That's how to lose people. So he lifts his chin.
"AIGHT," He says. He steps back so that he may bow, low and genuine-- a soldier to a superior though he will accept no superior now, and thus it is only in respect. And gratitude. "May Messiahs allow of our paths crossing once the fuck more again."
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"Under victorious circumstances, I trust," Sigma answers, hope thick in his voice. He can do nothing for this child other than to put his faith in him.
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And in return, he'd offered battle prayer, for their victory. Sigma had been lifted by the hope then. He'd gotten along with very few back then, before he'd started changing, and yet Sigma had still been respectful. Kind. So he brings it back now with a wry note;
"DON THY HOLY CASQUE MARKED UPON THY FACE. The mass ritual we seek to show that which is within. TENACIOUS WITH OUR BANDED HUE WE TRAIPSE THIS MOST WICKED WIRE. And felled and fallen be our enemies. BY NAME OF THE HOLY MESSIAHS TWO MAY WE WRECK THEIR MOTHERFUCKING SHIT. Amen."
He wonders if Sigma will remember it, but he doesn't wait to find out. He starts off.