thearena | 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.

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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.

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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.

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"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.”

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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.

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"I'll think about it, when we're out of here." Until they were Clementine knew she needed to keep her mind focused on the present, if she wanted to make it out of her alive.

She'll finish getting her skates off before standing and trying to peer at the crowd of tributes for someone she knows, still stood where Jet left her by the time he comes back.

While Jet is practically a champion skater, Albert's the polar opposite, more on Clem's end of things. Luckily, he's too heavy for Jet to carry off the ice princess style (not that he'd put it past the blond the try) so they arrive to meet Clem with one of Albert's arms slung over Jet's shoulders and Jet's arm holding the older man up at the waist.

Or at least, that's how it's supposed to go. Instead, when they're a few yard away from the edge, Jet abruptly lets Albert go with a push and sends the other man scrambling to keep his feet. If Clem's ever watched Bambi, it's something to that effect.

Albert ends up face first at her feet in an indignant pile of irritated limbs and ridiculous silver lamé.

In comparison, Jet's arrival was perfectly graceful and he stepped off the ice as though it were asphalt.

"I thought you had that, Al. It couldn't have been more than twelve feet. Your balance is awful." The blond was smirking even though the whole mess was his fault and he bent over to untie his skates before offering a hand to the disgruntled German.

Even as he did that, though, he turned his attention to Clem and addressed her. "Seen anyone you can trust?"

It's like watching a trainwreck happen. Clementine see's the danger and opens her mouth to call a warning before the realisation that it's already too late hits her. All she can do is close her mouth and watch the disaster unfold, wincing sympathetically as Albert hits the ice in front of her.

At once she's crouching down in front of him. "Are you okay?" it didn't look like a soft fall.

Clementine lifts her head up to look at Albert, "Not yet."

Jet helps Albert up but he immediately sits back down to take off the infernal skates. Lord knows he can't even balance on the mall's tile in these, let alone on the ice.

"You're Clementine, aren't you?" He'd seen her in the mini arena, briefly. Steve had gone to help her so Albert had made his way to Cecil instead, secure in the knowledge that the child would be taken care of. She's far too young for something like this, not that any of them should be killing each other.

Albert looks back up at Jet, irritation gone in favor of the new issue at hand. "Shouldn't we take care of her?"

Jet shrugged and looked from Albert to Clementine and back.

"I don't think she needs anyone to 'take care' of her, she's not defenseless. Who she wants as the guys who've got her back is up to her."

He certainly wouldn't say no if she wanted to stay with them, but he was going to guess there were people she knew better and trusted more who would be more appealing.

He turned back to Clementine. "What do you want to do? Wanna keep looking?"

Standing back up again Clementine backs off a little to give them room. "Yeah, that's me."

As soon as Albert talks to Jet about her as if she's not part of the conversation her expression turns distinctly unimpressed, folding her arms across her chest. "He's right, I'm not. I can take care of myself."

She glances back around them at the other tributes. "... yeah, they can't be that far away yet."

From the look on Albert's face, her assertion that she can take care of herself is met with the same sort of skepticism one would expect from the parent of a rebellious teen. He finally gets his skates off and stands up, tying the laces to keep them around his neck for later use as a sort of makeshift flail if necessary.

"I think it's still best to stay with us until you find someone you're used to." And if they can't find anyone, then the two former cyborgs will just have to care for the little girl as they can. There's no help for it. Protecting children is a must.

Jet put a hand on her shoulder and nodded towards Albert. "Ignore him, he's kinda limited on how he views kids. He was the goody-goody type when he was little." Jet shot his partner a smirk but then nodded in the direction they should head: away from the rink. "At the very least, we should keep moving."

"Got it." she says, grinning at Jet's assessment, firmly on his more supportive side of the discussion. "You're probably right though... if..."

Clementine squints and then starts, "I can see Mindy, she's my friend." she looks up at the two men, "Thank you for helping me, I've got to go though."

"I was not a goody good-...Mindy?" It's clear he disapproves. Mindy may have won the first arena that Jet and Albert were in, but she's still a child too and all of Albert's reservations are completely apparent in the way he says the girl's name.

"Are you sure about that? Maybe we should all stay together." Goody-goody indeed.

Jet took Albert's arm and gestured towards Mindy. "Go on, we'll see you around. Just keep each other safe."

While he certainly thought the two of them could keep Clem safe, he trusted her to make the right decision on who she went with. They were kids, but so was he and a bunch of other guys once and they kept each other safe for years. For the most part.

He looked back over to Albert, that smile now turned on his partner. "Let her go, she'll be fine. Besides, what're you gonna do? Tie her to you?"

Clementine nods, amused at Albert as much as she is annoyed by his attitude. "We will. You two be careful too, okay?"

And she's off, a brightly clad figure carrying her skates in her hand as she runs over to Mindy before the other girl can disappear.

"No. I don't know." He watches Clementine scamper off as he responds, seeing a giant red target retreat into the distance rather than a capable girl. "If she dies badly, it'll be our fault."

ARENA 11-PaneMall

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