The Gamemakers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gamemakers) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2013-01-12 03:36 pm
gamemakers) wrote in thearena2013-01-12 03:36 pm
Entry tags:
- ! arena 05,
- sigma klim,
- wesker,
- wyatt earp,
- ✘ adel-makim-zalur,
- ✘ alex rider,
- ✘ anna morasca,
- ✘ charlotte "lottie" la bouff,
- ✘ chris redfield,
- ✘ copycat,
- ✘ danny williams,
- ✘ dean winchester,
- ✘ donatello,
- ✘ dr. grey,
- ✘ draco malfoy,
- ✘ eliot spencer,
- ✘ eponine thenardier,
- ✘ howard bassem,
- ✘ javert,
- ✘ lindsey mcdonald,
- ✘ momoko ryugasaki,
- ✘ neeshka,
- ✘ richard b. riddick,
- ✘ sherlock holmes (bbc),
- ✘ some ovmennet,
- ✘ tony stark
Arena 05 - Chill
Usually, the tribute's outfits for the arena aren't accessorized. But today, the last thing their stylists hand them before the countdown begins is a pair of heavy black glasses, polarized and thick-lensed. They look at odds with the thick, winter gear they've been outfitted in.
It's a long rise to the surface today, inside their individual little tubes, much longer than usual. They start to feel the cold only about halfway up, and to hear the wind. It howls across the surface as they reach it, pressing all of their clothes flat against their bodies. And the reason for the glasses is immediately apparent.
20 - 19 - 18
The sky is white. The ground is white (and gray and black and blue but mostly white), the far-off sea is blinding silver. Everything in sight flings light around, fractures it into scintilating rainbows and sheer white beams of reflection. It is strong, cruel light, and it bears no heat at all. The surface is so cold that the little metal trackers ache in everyone's arm, and the countdown has to continue at a deafening volume to be heard.
12 - 11 - 10 -
The circle of silver pedestals is the only regular shape to be seen. All else is fractured and split, the most uneven footing imaginable. And at the center of the circle, the Cornucopia sports icycles hanging from its lip, almost to the pile of supplies tucked all neatly inside its mouth.
4
3
2
There's a lull in the wind just as the gong sounds, letting it peal out across the frozen glacier, and echo off the high rock cliffs in the distance. And the ice answers, with a loud crack that seems to come from miles down.
Let the Games begin.
It's a long rise to the surface today, inside their individual little tubes, much longer than usual. They start to feel the cold only about halfway up, and to hear the wind. It howls across the surface as they reach it, pressing all of their clothes flat against their bodies. And the reason for the glasses is immediately apparent.
20 - 19 - 18
The sky is white. The ground is white (and gray and black and blue but mostly white), the far-off sea is blinding silver. Everything in sight flings light around, fractures it into scintilating rainbows and sheer white beams of reflection. It is strong, cruel light, and it bears no heat at all. The surface is so cold that the little metal trackers ache in everyone's arm, and the countdown has to continue at a deafening volume to be heard.
12 - 11 - 10 -
The circle of silver pedestals is the only regular shape to be seen. All else is fractured and split, the most uneven footing imaginable. And at the center of the circle, the Cornucopia sports icycles hanging from its lip, almost to the pile of supplies tucked all neatly inside its mouth.
4
3
2
There's a lull in the wind just as the gong sounds, letting it peal out across the frozen glacier, and echo off the high rock cliffs in the distance. And the ice answers, with a loud crack that seems to come from miles down.
Let the Games begin.
no subject
And had one she did, he was quick to notice. A harpoon, that is. And he didn't. He didn't have anything but the bag in his hand - only ten bags and almost 40 tributes, if he let this go, he wouldn't get the chance to grab another - and there wasn't time to search through it and find what might work to defend himself. And let's face it, against a harpoon only feet away from him... he wasn't sure he would find much.
"Hey hey hey, easy. I... " he not-very-gracefully slides to a halt there before her on the ice. A new face. And he would really rather not have to fight her. "No trouble."
no subject
"I need that." She jerked the harpoon, a quick back and forth, and it broke free of the ice. Lifting it up, she leveled it at him. A harpoon was a new one, but she could figure it out.
"So...you should maybe slide it over here."
no subject
Tony narrows his eyes in aggressive annoyance, "Just remember missy...I didn't take this where it could have gone." Its supposed to be a threat, but yet he's the weaponless one getting mugged by a girl.
no subject
She poked the harpoon closer, arching an eyebrow.
"Slid it over and walk away. Don't be a hero, kid."
no subject
"Kid," he scoffs under his breath. She was what, 27, 28 maybe? He had a decade on her at least. Quite frankly, it was insulting.
no subject
"She who has the sharp object makes the nicknames, buddy."