Panem Events (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
etcircenses) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2014-08-18 09:38 pm
etcircenses) wrote in thearena2014-08-18 09:38 pm
Entry tags:
- ! arena 11,
- aang,
- albert heinrich,
- bucky barnes (mcu),
- cassandra marko,
- clara murphy,
- commander shepard,
- harley quinn,
- jet link,
- molotov cocktease,
- sigma klim,
- the grand highblood,
- the signless,
- ✘ alex murphy,
- ✘ astrid hofferson,
- ✘ brainiac 5,
- ✘ bruce banner,
- ✘ bucky barnes (616),
- ✘ carlos the scientist,
- ✘ clementine,
- ✘ dave strider,
- ✘ dennett norton,
- ✘ donatello,
- ✘ edward nygma,
- ✘ elsa,
- ✘ eridan ampora,
- ✘ hiccup,
- ✘ homura akemi,
- ✘ joel,
- ✘ justin hammer,
- ✘ kankri vantas,
- ✘ kurloz makara,
- ✘ mindy macready,
- ✘ nasir,
- ✘ natasha romanoff,
- ✘ peggy carter,
- ✘ pruna,
- ✘ rocket raccoon,
- ✘ ruffnut thorston,
- ✘ skye,
- ✘ sollux captor,
- ✘ steve rogers,
- ✘ tess,
- ✘ tony stark
ARENA 11-PaneMall
It’s pre-dawn when the Tributes are roused from their beds and sent to their tubes. Those who’d been imprisoned for the past few weeks had their heads covered before transport to the staging area, and there’s an air of confusion surrounding just about everything that’s happening until the stylists and managers arrive on the scene and try to calm everyone down. The reunions may be happy, but they're sadly very temporary.
The first clue that something strange is happening comes from their clothing: figure skating costumes with bright colors and sequins and ice skates strapped to their feet. Some may even find it difficult to stand with the blades on their feet, but as they're placed into the arena, all becomes clear. The mall skating rink seems quiet and quaint, especially after weeks of uncertainty and stress. Too bad the peace and quiet can’t last.
20
19
18...
Above the ice rink (which houses all 100+ Tributes) there are floors with shops looking over them. Large, bright fluorescent lights dot the multi-storied ceiling and create a warm, nostalgic glow to the place. Benign music is piped in from various hidden speakers to compliment the intended mood of fun and commerce.
17
16
15…
The countdown continues and the Tributes, some of whom haven’t seen each other in weeks, stare at one another helplessly. That is, until one of them boldly decides to speak.
"We're expected to fight here today," Steve's voice suddenly cuts through the tension in the room. It commands attention without demanding it, a conviction of truth in his tone.
14
13
12...
"To turn on each other through fear and self preservation. And we could give them what they want. A bloodbath," here he pauses longer, lets the reality of his statements sink in. Let people realize what he's saying, that this is a choice.
"Or we can choose not to fight. To instead work together," an option so many seem not to even realize they have. "No one here has to die by our hands today," he knows his speaking won't be without consequence, but he does want to believe he'll be the only one to pay for this.
"This is a risk. One many of you are hesitant to trust, let alone take. But everything we do here is a risk to ourselves and those around us," nothing in the arena comes without putting your life on the line.
"I, for one, am willing to take this risk, to choose not to fight," Steve looks around the room, making eye contact with a few people as he does. He's not telling anyone what to do, this is for them to decides for themselves; their freedom of choice.
But he's got faith in the his fellow tributes. "And I've got a feeling I'm not alone.”
… 3
2
1…
After the countdown ends, there’s a moment of utter still and silence. Then...
BOOOOOOOOOOOM
The room seems to erupt with noise and concussive force. The explosions are so violent that the muzak is paused in its tracks and shakes some of the Tributes off of their pedestals, and after the ice fog and smoke clears, it becomes apparent that fifteen of the Tribute pedestals and exploded there on the ice rink. Fifteen corpses lie mangled on the bloody ice: Deanna Winchester, Danny Fenton, Fili, Kili, Kain Highwind, Perry Kelvin, Julian Bashir, Clint Barton, Karkat Vantas, Sirius Black, Rahm Kota, Cinderella, Bunnymund, Robin, Rock Lee, and Rokk Krin.
The center of the ice rink remains completely intact and stocked with a few dozen keys of varying shapes and sizes. This is the Cornucopia and the Gamemakers are compelling the Tributes to skate for it.
The gong rings out, and the countdown's voice announces “The Arena is now open.” The Games have begun.
The first clue that something strange is happening comes from their clothing: figure skating costumes with bright colors and sequins and ice skates strapped to their feet. Some may even find it difficult to stand with the blades on their feet, but as they're placed into the arena, all becomes clear. The mall skating rink seems quiet and quaint, especially after weeks of uncertainty and stress. Too bad the peace and quiet can’t last.
19
18...
Above the ice rink (which houses all 100+ Tributes) there are floors with shops looking over them. Large, bright fluorescent lights dot the multi-storied ceiling and create a warm, nostalgic glow to the place. Benign music is piped in from various hidden speakers to compliment the intended mood of fun and commerce.
16
15…
The countdown continues and the Tributes, some of whom haven’t seen each other in weeks, stare at one another helplessly. That is, until one of them boldly decides to speak.
"We're expected to fight here today," Steve's voice suddenly cuts through the tension in the room. It commands attention without demanding it, a conviction of truth in his tone.
13
12...
"To turn on each other through fear and self preservation. And we could give them what they want. A bloodbath," here he pauses longer, lets the reality of his statements sink in. Let people realize what he's saying, that this is a choice.
"Or we can choose not to fight. To instead work together," an option so many seem not to even realize they have. "No one here has to die by our hands today," he knows his speaking won't be without consequence, but he does want to believe he'll be the only one to pay for this.
"This is a risk. One many of you are hesitant to trust, let alone take. But everything we do here is a risk to ourselves and those around us," nothing in the arena comes without putting your life on the line.
"I, for one, am willing to take this risk, to choose not to fight," Steve looks around the room, making eye contact with a few people as he does. He's not telling anyone what to do, this is for them to decides for themselves; their freedom of choice.
But he's got faith in the his fellow tributes. "And I've got a feeling I'm not alone.”
2
1…
After the countdown ends, there’s a moment of utter still and silence. Then...
The room seems to erupt with noise and concussive force. The explosions are so violent that the muzak is paused in its tracks and shakes some of the Tributes off of their pedestals, and after the ice fog and smoke clears, it becomes apparent that fifteen of the Tribute pedestals and exploded there on the ice rink. Fifteen corpses lie mangled on the bloody ice: Deanna Winchester, Danny Fenton, Fili, Kili, Kain Highwind, Perry Kelvin, Julian Bashir, Clint Barton, Karkat Vantas, Sirius Black, Rahm Kota, Cinderella, Bunnymund, Robin, Rock Lee, and Rokk Krin.
The center of the ice rink remains completely intact and stocked with a few dozen keys of varying shapes and sizes. This is the Cornucopia and the Gamemakers are compelling the Tributes to skate for it.
The gong rings out, and the countdown's voice announces “The Arena is now open.” The Games have begun.
no subject
And injured; she wasn't sure what had gotten her arm, aside from the blast, but it got her well enough that her sleeve was good and red, with a slight burning sensation. Otherwise, she was fine. She had to be. She had to--
stop what she was doing to see the Initiate. Something was wrong. Something was wrong..with him. What was wrong with him? Did one of the blasts get him, as well, somehow?
She immediately skated to the giant's side.
"Initiate?" She tried to allow her mind to be open to him, in case whatever was wrong was something not to be spoken loudly. "Are you ok?"
no subject
His head lifts some at the call of his name, but he doesn't meet her eyes. He doesn't open his mouth.
Then it turns out her question is just that-- a question, not an order. He drops his head back down. He is neither okay nor not. He is not a thing that question should be asked to. Perhaps that will be answer enough for Sister Homura.
He awaits a proper command to reach his ears.
no subject
But, now he was an Avox. She didn't know why or how. But he was a slave now, and she needed to help him.
"Take my hand." She held out her good one to him, forcing her voice to become firm to compensate for the shaking in her arm. "Come with me."
no subject
He doesn't know where she'll take him, or if she'll be alright enough with her injury. But it's not his place to wonder and he certainly ain't going to ask. Wherever she leads him, he will go.
Even still he does not look at her.
no subject
Quietly she began to skate, intending to lead the Avox away from the blood and explosions and from others in general, who might try and kill him.
"This way."
no subject
He catches sight and watches real close and careful. How the steps go, how long, all suchlike. He times it, braces for it, the mirrors her.
The motion surprises him, catches him off guard and makes him unsteady. There's the slightest tensing in the grip of his hand as he seeks to rebalance himself. Oh damn, oh motherfuck. He steadies then though. He might have it. Carefully, he tries again, all in the process of following her. Always been a quick learner has he.
no subject
"This way," she said, a hint of encouragement and shakiness creeping into her voice as she at last staggered off of the ice. "I'll help you, all right? You just...let me help you. Please."
no subject
Let her help, she asks of him. Begs, all sadlike.
Help him? No, no, she was a tribute it was his job to serve her. How could he make her understand this? He goes on to wracking his thinkpan, trying as fast as possible to come up with an efficient way to communicate this point, that he was not to be helped by her but the other way around.
His free arm goes behind his back, with his head still all bowed. Servants did that. Put their arms behind them when made to stand idle, showing all of: my hands are as to be for helping, I do not motherfuckin need them otherwise. I am here to serve.
no subject
no subject
On that word he goes utterly still. His back snaps straight, his shoulders with it. The hand what she ain't holding goes flat to his side.
He swallows, and it's being even more obvious with the difficulty it is to do so. His head lifts and he feels the weight of doom weigh down. They're going to punish him for this, he can't. He can't. Fear wells up like blood from a wound. There's a shake to be felt in the hand she holds.
His eyes lift all full of fear and empty, a distance stretching out between him and them glassy thing what he looks through. The old him might be in there be he sure as shit ain't answering the door.
no subject
"You're going to win." She looks at him, forcing her own tears back at this...this...helplessness so uncharacteristic of the troll she knew. "I am going to help you win. And then they have to make you better. Because you'll be a winner. Do you understand?"
Her voice shook again.
"I...won't let you be beaten like this!"
no subject
Her words are more than he's ready for. His blink wide and round. Confusion, terror, a total lack of understanding, the whole motherfucking jam. Disbelief. He couldn't win. That was impossible. It would be impossible.
He wasn't supposed to win, he was supposed to serve and die. And then they have to make you better. Because you'll be a winner. They'd be so angry. They'd be furious he's sure. They would hurt him. They could hurt her.
Stiffly, he nods to say, yes, he understands. But he can't help her to do this. Capitol could never allow it.
no subject
Someone she could save. At least, she could pay Initiate back for his kindness.
no subject
But she seems to need for the belief of saving him. In itself, it's sad. If nothing else, he won't forget it.
He doesn't nod again.