Lick the Palm of the Burning Handshake [OPEN]

[pimpcanes]

WHO| Everyone in the food court
WHAT| Black Tom lives up to his career terrorist profession and bombs the buffet.
WHERE| Food court
WHEN| Week 2
WARNINGS| Explosions, blood, gore, death.

It takes him the better part of working through the night to make anything useful of the contents of the CELL-U-LAR store, but once he's on the right track it ends up being easier than he thought it would. He's familiar enough with the grenades, and the phones just need a little caressing, a little tinkering, to turn into a useful way to detonate the trap without putting himself at any risk. No unsightly blood, no chips of bone and hair whipping through the air.

Tom might delude himself into thinking it's easier to live with himself if he doesn't see any of the carnage happening, but the truth is that he doesn't particularly care. Being away from the site of the bombing means little more to him than not having to cover his ears or look out for flying shrapnel when he kills however many people are in unfortunately close proximity to his trap. People have died at his hands before, and they will again; this isn't personal, this isn't traumatic, this is just Wednesday.

Maybe the Roombas will even clean it up before he has to stomach the smell before the dinner buffet.

He hits a button on the flip phone and waits for the muted sounds of bangs and screams that are sure to follow.

-/-

In the food court, the grenades go off pop pop pop pop, six of them, within a space of twenty seconds. Two of them are taped under tables, two stashed by the hot water that keeps the seafood warm, two near the nacho cheese and fryer oil so scalding liquid is thrown into the air with everything else. The sound would be deafening, like a crack in the universe near anyone unfortunate enough to be within range, but by then they're unlikely to be able to hear it, given that they may be in several pieces at that point.

Within seconds the food court has become a nightmare.

Comments

Closed to Clara

[smarterthanthem]

It was just another normal food run.

Clementine ended up going into the food court a little later than she'd normally aim to, she'd woken up a little later than she'd meant to and more people were in here than she'd like but none of them seemed too interested in her. Which suited the girl just fine as she shook open her food bag and went to the tables, blissfully unaware of what was about to happen.

One moment everything is calm, the next --

The table she's been approaching explodes upwards and outwards, pieces of scorched wood hurtling in every direction. The force of the grenades detonation throws Clementine back, too shocked to even cry out before her head impacts with something hard and she's knocked out cold on the floor, blood starting to seep from her dark hair onto the hard surface.

[seestheman]

Clara isn't in the food court when the grenades go off. She's close by, on her way to grab lunch and see if Alex is there so she can maybe have a conversation with him that isn't just him checking up on her and then heading off to patrol some more.

She's heard the sound of an explosion before (it still haunts her dreams along with the smell of Alex's burning flesh and the way both him and his burned out car looked in the aftermath). Clara knows that running towards something like this isn't the brightest thing to do, she has no medical training other than some basic first aid and isn't sure how much good she'd be able to do. But there's something primal inside her that makes her run towards the explosion as fear gnaws at her gut that Alex or Dave or Dr. Norton or anyone she knows is there and is injured.

The scene before her is like something out of a nightmare. People she knows, whether well or not, are hurt and bleeding, or possibly even dead and she suddenly regrets coming here. She's almost about to turn around and go find the nearest bathroom or trash can or anything to throw up in when she sees Clem.

It's obvious that she has a headwound, possibly a concussion, which is the only reason why Clara doesn't scoop her up in her arms and run off to somewhere safer. The only reason she isn't panicking about the amount of blood right now is that headwounds bleed a lot. "Clem," Clara reaches out to touch the girl's arm and give her a small nudge in the hopes that she can bring her around to consciousness before she picks her up. "Clem, I need you to wake up now. Please."

[smarterthanthem]

For a time it feels like Clementine is drifting, the way she did down the river those months ago. Dimly, somewhere, she hears the cries of pain and fear, the sound of still crackling fire eating at what's left of the tables like a distant bad dream.

Her head feels wet, like she's lying in a puddle. It's kind of uncomfortable yet moving seems so impossible to do, it's better she lie here a little longer.

Clem.

There's a woman calling her name, she thinks, and though the voice isn't right she addresses the first person to come to mind, "Christa...?" she says, barely audible, slurring the name clumsily.

Her eyelids feel so heavy...

[seestheman]

Clara doesn't know who Christa is. It occurs to her that she really doesn't know much about Clem, other than the fact that she's tenacious as hell and that, in Clara's opinion, she's too young to be in here.

"No, it's Clara," she replies. "Remember? From the ship?" Which...okay, probably isn't the best memory to bring up, but it's what she has to work with at the moment.

None of the fires seem that close at the moment, so at least there's that, but Clara really doesn't want to stick around here for too long, especially considering the fact that Clem's hurt.

"Clem, I need you to stay with me okay? Does it feel like anything's broken?" At the end of the day, Clara isn't a doctor, but she is a mom who's had to deal with her fair share of close calls with David between him being overly adventurous and him playing hockey, so hopefully she'll be able to handle this.

Closed to Kankri and eventually Zuko

[actually112]

He had seen the grenades. He saw the two near the fryer. He thought they were just turtleduck eggs someone was going to cook.

They weren't.

He's enjoying a Froyo when the first pop triggers something primal in him. He stands up, but on his feet, he only has time to see the first explosion before the others go off.

He's thrown against the ground. Pain rockets through his back and chest. Rubble from the ceiling is falling towards him. His first instinct is to bend it. He remembers that he can't bend at the last second.

It comes down on his chest. He can't breathe. He had braced his hands against it, narrowly avoiding shattered ribs. His head is swimming. The rubble is getting heavier, wanting his arms to surrender. His ears are ringing.

His arms groan under weight they can normally handle. It hurts to breathe. He grits his teeth and throws the chunk of ceiling off of himself, but hefting what should have crushed his tiny body, while easy normally, makes his head spin and his stomach churn.

Maybe he can just... lie there for a bit.

His breath is all wrong.

[privilegecheck]

Kankri's napping on Kurloz's pile of bendy straws when it happens. He wakes up immediately when he hears the booming all too close, feels the walls shake around him. He's never been all that deep a sleeper, and the paranoia of the Arena means he's always prepared to wake up at a moment's notice.

Once he realizes that his current hideout is unharmed by the explosions he's immediately on his feet and off towards where he heard them going off, hoisting his bag of supplies over his shoulder. People are going to need help. Some of them might be his friends. He should do what he can for them.

The sight that greets him is something out of his all-too-frequent nightmares. People lying around, some in pieces, screaming or crying in pain or simply lying prone and unmoving in that awful, doll-like way that corpses do - familiar terror wells up in his chest. But he's become sickeningly accustomed to such sights by now, and so he doesn't turn away, but pushes further in.

It's then that he notices a new, but still familiar face among the wreckage. He rushes over, kneeling beside the boy who'd tried so hard to comfort him when the Arena was new and they were still strangers. "Aang? Aang, it's all right, it's Kankri. I'm right here and I'm going to help you, you'll be all right - here, can you sit up for me?" He tries to speak as calmly as possible as he helps the other boy to sit up and awkwardly scoots him over to a nearby intact wall to lean against. No need to add panic on top of everything else Aang is going through.

[actually112]

"Hurts..."

Sitting up, it hurts. His ribs are groaning and his lungs are burning and the scar on his back is throbbing. He recognizes Kankri, knows who he is, but his face is blurred around the edges.

"What happened?"

He doesn't understand. He doesn't understand where the explosions came from, what made them happen.

[privilegecheck]

"I don't know, exactly, I wasn't here. It seems that someone set off an explosive. This is an area most if not all of us visit, so I suppose someone thought to use it for taking out the competition. Where does it hurt?"

Kankri kneels next to Aang, checking him over visually. He looks bruised and badly scraped, but Kankri can't see any severe open wounds or obvious broken bones, so he's not sure what's wrong with the other boy. He can tell something's very wrong, though, just from how Aang is looking and behaving.

"Stay awake with me, all right? I need you to stay awake so we can figure out what's hurt. Can you do that for me, Aang?" He grabs some sanitizer and a few scraps of cloth from the toy store out of his bag, and starts to gently dab it on some of Aang's scrapes. He knows by now that infection is a deadly risk of the Arenas.

Closed to Zuko and Bucky (MCU)

[actually112]

He's been taken out of the piles of rubble, but his lips are turning bluer with every painful, shallow breath.

He has been here before. Smoke everywhere, watching one who was once his best fly away. Or was it when she was squirming in the dirt, watching earthbenders kick more and more dirt onto her? Or was it when he got into a fight with his sister, and she put her hands around his neck?

So many memories. Seems strange to have so many.

The world swims around him, but he can vaguely make out...

"Sozin?"

Has his friend come back for him?

[failbender]

Hearing Aang call him Sozin had Zuko's eyes widening in horror.

This was worse than him just hallucinating. If he was seeing things from his past lives, if it was all blending together, he was possibly getting just a little too close to being in touch with them all.

As his lips got bluer, Zuko fretted over him, hands flailing uselessly as he tried to figure out what to do.

"Someone, anyone, my friend needs help!" he cried out. "Is anyone a healer?!"

This wasn't something he could fix himself, but some people in this place weren't entirely malicious and it was possible there was a healer that might be willing to help, especially since Aang was so young.

[tookthewheel]

The one who comes to Zuko's isn't a healer, or a doctor, he's very much the opposite in the fact; a full on killer.

The explosions had drawn Bucky to the food court immediately. Slipping in swiftly with his carbine drawn and ready in his hands as he surveyed the wreckage that had been wrought, at first seeking either an easy kill in it's aftermath before he truly surveyed the victims who had been caught in the blast. Many of them seemed young, many of them--

He hears a voice call for help and turns his head to look, then somehow he seems to lose seconds. One moment he was he was at the entrance of the food court, the next before the unfamiliar teenager and the boy Aang, badly hurt in his arms. His mind catches up with his body as he kneels down swiftly, gun pointed to the side, and he's shaken in ways he won't understand until later.

"Tell me his condition." he demands.

[actually112]

The world feels like it's swimming. There's the familiar glimmer of metal, like the surface of water, light bouncing off of it like fish. His chest can barely rise and fall. He can't breathe like he should.

He's scared, but he's relaxed at the same time. He's been here before, after all.

He weakly reaches up, trying to grasp something, anything, solid. Once he gets something, his grip is loose and his fingers are cold.

OTA - positive or negative, just no death please

[silberfuchs]

Food had been so easy to get this arena that Albert put very little thought into his rappelling down above the food court at mealtime to collect rations for himself and Jet. He wasn't even down very long, he didn't have to be now that he wasn't playing the proverbial Santa Claus and handing out treats to all the good little boys and girls for the rest of the arena, instead turning more insular since Jet - blinded as he is - shouldn't stray far from their camp lest he become a tempting target. So he does it himself, hurrying through to just grab his food and go, get back to Jet before anyone finds him and decides he's an easy kill.

Which is when the table to his right explodes, sending Albert flying leftwards still attached to his rope and therefore the ceiling. He flails for a moment, trying to control his trajectory but too disoriented to succeed. Ears ringing, Albert hits the wall with concussive force and leaves consciousness behind, hanging limp from his still intact rope and harness, swinging gently in the aftermath.

[metalicarus]

It was perfectly normal for one of them to go get the food and the other to run a separate errand or even just stay at their base, but since Jet lost his sight, the thought of Albert going alone made him beyond antsy and nervous. If anything happened to his partner, how was Jet supposed to help him? Still, they needed food so, Jet couldn't argue about the German leaving. He would just have to wait and hope his partner made it back all right. Five minutes gone and that plan shattered. He felt it just as much as heard it, a rattling accompanied with a large boom that could only be the sound of an explosion...and it sounded like it had come from the food court.

Panic flared up in his chest, but he was already up on his feet and feeling around for his pack. He found his paintball pistol, hoping it would be a good deterrent from anyone thinking they might have a go at him and pocketed his last hunting knife, just in case. He hesitated as he considered the first aid kit. What if Albert needed it? But what if he lost it along the way?There was no guarantee that they'd receive another.

But what if Albert needed it?

That thought was too powerful and it led to him fishing for some rope to tie the kit to his waist so he'd be less likely to lose track of it. The last thing he grabbed was his walkie talkie.

As he stepped out from the cover of their camp, fear swelled up and filled him from head to toe. He couldn't see, he had no idea what might be in front of him or behind him and had no way of checking...but the thought that Albert might have been caught in that explosion drove him forward. He was careful to stick to walls not only to keep one side of him covered, but also so he could trace along it and find the place where their ropes were tied. The one that he suspected Albert would take to the food court was the first one he found and an experimental tug on it told him there was still something heavy attached; it could really only be one thing. He tugged the rope twice, hoping to feel some tugs back, but none came, which certainly didn't bode well.

He thought about trying to pull the other man up, but not only would that make him a really easy target for anyone with a projectile, the German was also significantly heavier than usual--likely because he was unconscious...at least he hoped unconscious--and Jet didn't want to lose his strength half way through and drop his partner.

So the blond found the next rope and used it to climb over the side of the banister. He didn't have his harness, so he climbed slowly and carefully, hand over hand, down the rope until his feet found the ground, leaving his hands throbbing and likely chaffed, but he didn't care. The smell of burning and gunpowder lead him to the food court, once again the walls as his cover. There were sounds of movement and he could tell there were other people there, but he was banking on the aftermath of the explosion to be cover enough for him to sneak in unnoticed.

The walkie talkie was his saving grace in his search, periodically turning it on and back off in the hopes he would hear the corresponding chirp from it's other half. Five minutes of slow searching led him to where he heard the answering chirp and the still body of his fiance.

"Albert?"

There was no answer and Jet's stomach twisted. The blond dug out his knife and reached out to hold the rope as he sawed at it. Finally it snapped, dropping his partner into his lap, allowing Jet to find a wall to put his back to as he curled around his fiancee protectively.

"Albert? Wake up." Please wake up.

[silberfuchs]

It's a bright day. Too bright, Albert grumbles, putting on his sunglasses. The sun beats down on the white sand of the beach, throwing glassy reflections and distorted colors. The tide is out too, leaving the beach looking more like a desert for how far the water recedes. But he's not here for the water, nor the jungle at his back with its twisting ferns and conifers, pineapples growing in neat rows with oaks to shade them. Instead, he's just here for the sun.

He closes his eyes behind the shades, stretched out with his hands folded on his stomach, everything bare to the elements. It's peaceful though, the sun is warm and caresses him with gentle light and the sand is smooth like glass under his back. Civilized and well behaved grains. His head is pillowed on Jet's crossed knees and he wonders if this is bliss, here in the warm sun of his lover, naked and at peace.

"Albert?" Jet sounds as if he's a long way off but he's right there, long fingers trailing through his hair, pressing gently into his scalp. He could get used to this, wants to get used to this as the light caresses help him drift off.

"Albert? Wake up."

But he remains limp in Jet's lap, chest rising and falling evenly and as peacefully as can be. Quiet and still.

He doesn't wake up.

[hit_girl_mindy]

Mindy was food gathering, and she'd noticed Clementine was too. She gave the girl a nod while she gathered things along. She feels something...strange in the air though, something she can't quite pinpoint, and then with a crack things explode around her, and she swears, ducking down.

She was almost home free, but some of that fryer liquid? Yeah, just happens to splash on her cheek and she's yelling again, hands clenched. Damn it, DAMN IT! She bit the inside of her mouth so hard blood comes. There's smoke and she can hear some yelling, and already she's running for the bathroom because damn it, now she's bleeding pretty badly.

She was going to KILL whoever did this.

[knifewithnoname]

Pruna hates explosions. Seriously. Even though they are useful and if she knew how to make explosions (Howard had explained you could explode sugar, but she's still not sure how) she would be happy, she could kill a lot of people that way.

But instead she seemed doomed to always be caught in explosions. And that was not good.

Sandy wasn't with her, she had said she needed some time on her own. Pruna wasn't sure that was a good idea, even if Sandy was getting better at fighting. And she didn't really understand why, surely the most practical thing was to stick together.

But Sandy was her friend and keeping her from going all leaky faced was one of Pruna's duties so she had come to grab some food for them both to share later.

The next thing she knew she was knocked off her feet and crashing into a table. She scrambled to her feet and ran, ducking down incase of more explosions and trying to avoid anyone who might take advantage of this to kill people.

Maybe she should do that? She paused and then realised her arm hurt, looking down she saw it was red with blood. She cursed and darted into a bathroom.

When she saw another figure there she growled and brought her ice skate up with her good arm.

[hit_girl_mindy]

Mindy heard someone coming in and similarly was on the defensive, brandishing the blade she managed to snag and silently cursing the timing. She was hurt BAD, she knew that much, because she was barely seeing on the bleeding part of her face, but turning her back on Pruna of all people was folly. No, she was going to make sure she didn't make any more dumb mistakes...

...And then she saw the bleeding arm. Split decision, and she started to slowly move backward, in case Pruna wanted to dart at her anyway, so that the girl at least could hit the sinks.

open;

[soldieronwards]

Only a few seconds to a minute spell the difference between alive and intact and dead and in pieces for one Bucky Barnes. He's just left the food court after getting himself a meal when the explosions resound behind him.

Even with a belly full of unhealthy food and grease still on his hands, he reacts like a pro. It takes him two seconds to pull a paintball gun out of his backpack--a paintball gun that happens to be jury-rigged to shoot marbles rather than balls of paint. And then he's scanning his surroundings as he strides closer to the carnage, coolly expressionless except for the slightest grimace.

He'll help pull people out from wreckage if he has to, but that's not really his style. No, he's more interested in seeing if he can find anyone nearby, just out of the range of damage, who looks like they might have been complicit in setting off the explosion. That would give him something to do.

[youbarium]

Carlos was fortunate enough to be on his way to the cafeteria when the bombs went off; he missed the brunt of the blast, avoided the shrapnel, and he didn't even get hit with hot fryer oil. Food might have to wait until tomorrow, but at least he's alive.

Someone with better self-preservation instincts would have run. Carlos, however, is a scientist, and he had spent the last two years going toward dangerous-looking explosions, rather than away. He wants to know what happened.

So, Carlos edges toward the blast site, Darwin the reprogrammed roomba at his heels. He moves slowly, cautiously, ready to bolt at a moment's notice -- he doesn't know if a second set of bombs is about to be triggered, or if anyone will try to take advantage of the chaos. He is wide-eyed, peering around a corner, staring at the wreckage, making no move to go in to help yet.

[soldieronwards]

Meanwhile, Bucky's temper's on a hair trigger as he surveys the damage, sees the bloodshed, hears the cries of pain and distress--and turns to see a wide-eyed scientist with a pet robot peering at the destruction.

He reacts naturally, or at least as he thinks is natural for a soldier.

That means he strides over very suddenly, gun suddenly out, and lashes out with one foot to try to kick Carlos right in the gut so that he doubles over. If that happens, he's going to put the barrel of the gun directly to Carlos's head immediately afterwards.

Closed to Thor

[carnagecarnival]

He'd been late. All coming back from what duty's he'd been to getting done for the tributes here, he'd been late coming back to help the other avoxes set up, put the food out, get on everybody having their motherfucking eats.

He'd been shaking before he even got there. He didn't run, no, but he had tried on hurrying nevertheless. Late as he was, shamed as he was with his head all being down, he moved to join his avoxes all being in there.

And then everything burst.

The next thing what he knew, he was on his back gasping for breath. He blinked up at the ceiling, trying to find breath, trying to find thought.

His ears are all gone to nothing but a ringing song.

[worldsaway]

The sound of explosions is no deterrent to Thor. If anything, it compels him to approach the scene with haste, no hesitation apparent despite the chaos of it all. He's scanning his eyes around the court, looking for someone to pay immediate attention to when he catches sight of someone familiar.

His reaction is instantaneous and he's charging forward and stooping to the side of the troll, offering him an arm despite already moving to help lift him up and away from the danger.

"Can you stand?" He asks diligently, unaware of Initiate's inability to speak.

[carnagecarnival]

He's being lifted up before he even realises it, pulled all upright to sitting. He grabs the arm on first instinct, then lets go on the second. Can't touch tributes, not allowed to. His hands brace upon the floor instead.

He blinks his spinning world and he sees Thor's mouth move. He's not deaf, there's one thing. He can vaguely here Thor's voice, there underneath the ringing. But for all that, the message is lost.

There's a note of distress in him, as he squints in effort to make out what he got asked. He hopes that wasn't order.

[dogissues]

Shaggy, like usual, has parked himself at a table and is stuffing whatever he can find in his mouth at double speed. It's a surprise no one's used this as an opportunity to snipe him before this.

He's been lucky. But now his luck is up. He's at ground zero when one of the table bombs goes off and he hardly has time to realize anything is happening before the grenade takes him with it.