thearena | Arena 12 - The Spaceport

Arena 12 - The Spaceport

As usual the Tributes are woken up early for the start of the arena, leaving the Tribute Centre before dawn. A few hours ride in a hovercraft delivers them to their destination where their excited prep teams will outfit them in skintight suits that are colour coordinated by District (D1 is White, D2 is Red, D3 is Orange, D4 is Aqua, D5 is Purple, D6 is Pink, D7 is Light Green, D8 is Blue, D9 is Yellow, D10 is Dark Green, D11 is Lavender, and D12 is Black) over which they will be put into what is instantly identifiable as a spacesuit, complete with oxygen tank and helmet before being loaded into the tubes.

They rise up into what appears to be outer space and immediately upon emerging from the tubes Tributes will find themselves floating upwards with a length of rope the only thing holding them to their podiums. The countdown crackles out from speakers built into each Tributes helmet.

20

19

18…

The Cornucopia sits in the middle of a dusty crater with buildings surrounding it, made up of a number of chained down cases and cubes in limited numbers. Cubes which sharp-eyed Tributes will note look like they fit into the slots beside the doors that lead into the spaceport.

8

7

6…

The mirrored visors of the uniformly white spacesuits make it impossible to tell friend from foe. Tributes fighting for goods will have to risk harming their friends but the alternative, floating off into space or suffocating when their oxygen runs out, leaves them little choice.

3

2

1…

The gong rings out and the countdown’s voice announces, “the Arena is now open” before the line goes dead. The Games have begun.

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Gary certainly looks awful, yes, but he doesn't seem to be feeling awful. When Nill peers into the room he is already crouched, ready to sprint at a moment's notice, and is quick to hop to his feet and brush himself off when he confirms that he's not in danger. The smile he puts on is cheerful, if worryingly red.

"Nill! I knew it was you!" Which is definitely why he was so alarmed and tried to run away at first. Of course. "Sorry about that. Are you okay? Did I scare you?"

He was distinctive, among the tributes, but she'd have been able to pick him out even in a crowd. The grin that answered him was sharp, almost angry, but never at him; they were hunting-pertners, as ever.

And just for him she flexed her corona, flaring it just that little bit brighter, before letting the captured dark matter die back to latency.

"Always have. Not bad yourself, Vakarian," it didn't take much to imagine the results of Turian talons on these soft spacesuits, "Any contact from Thane?"

Not that they'd see it coming. This place would be the next thing to a safe haven, for him-- it was only because she supposed the Capitol had infrared that it could be assumed that even they could find him in among the shadows.

Definitely should have stayed put.

The second the doors open, he knows they're in trouble, but he's just far enough behind Nick that he can't do anything like trying to shove him out of the way before the giant robot claw grabs him.

"Holy shit," Sam curses under his breath as he keeps moving forward, sparing only a few thoughts for whether or not there's more of those where that one came from. If they move as fast as that one, he'll have maybe a second to dodge, which means he's going to have to keep his eyes open and not spend all his attention on trying to get Nick free.

Nick's obviously struggling with the claw itself, and going over there to try to help him pry them open probably isn't going to help much, so Sam turns his attention to the weaker joints of the arm. He flips his flashlight around, lining it along his forearm and over his elbow to give himself better support - and to pack a bigger punch - as he promptly begins bashing in the metal on the arm, ripping out any wires or cables he can get to with his other hand.

"I don't know what the crap that was, but if this thing opens, better run like hell."

Bro is trying to distance himself from this emotionally so that it's easier, his expression hardening, his jaw set firmly. It's difficult though, when she howls in pain like that. It's true, it makes for damn good viewing, but that doesn't make it easier to hear her in such pain. His attempts at trying to clean the wound aren't doing much good, either because of how bad it is.

Still, he can't give up and he keeps at it. Before too long, though, despite his attempts at trying to end the earlier conversation, he apparently just doesn't have it in him not to ask what he blurts out.

"So, he's gone." It's a statement, his voice devoid of much. He feels really damn bad about what happened to Kristoff, it's not something he would've wanted regardless of what he might've been feeling for Anna. "Must make you even angrier at me, huh?" He hopes not, but he has to fish around for her feelings or else it'll drive him crazy. "But let me tell you, if you think for a damn minute that this is what I ever wanted, then you're wrong."

ooc: Short note, Sif needs to come out of this with most of the stuff she got still on her, so Shep can't snag it.

Space. Glorious, majestic, familiar space.

Sif had trod on barren land like this before, though never whilst wearing such clumsy attire. When the countdown stopped and it was time to run, however, she startled herself with the force she could suddenly propel herself forward with and she ended up stumbling and falling, face scraping against the ground and... not really getting so much as scratched by it.

Slowly it dawned on her. She was herself again.

It filled her with wild joy to feel power surge through her body again, and rather than avoid the initial bloodbath she went for the cornucopia, fast, strong, invincible.

It was not difficult to secure a case, and for no other reason than because it was there and she could she also crabbed a cube, which proved to be rather essential once she got to the airlock.

As soon as she was inside, she got rid of her outer layer of clothing, it was sure to break in any way and then it would be no protection from the vacuum of space in any case. She knew what this arena was now, everyone had their powers and death would be swift and messy. No point in trying to drag things out, really.

The colour of her second suit was ridiculously bright, but it only made her laugh. It wasn't as if Asgardian armour was ever discreet either. Let people see her coming, she wasn't afraid.

She looked through what she had managed to salvage from the cornucopia and along with speed gel (that she had no idea what it was) and a medical kit she found a small knife and a screwdriver. It wasn't much, but they were things that could slash and stab and so in her hands they were capable of doing quite a lot of damage. She left the rest of the things in the crate and started to walk. She would undoubtedly run into someone sooner or later.

Edited 2014-12-22 00:09 (UTC)

Bruce knows Clint Barton even less than he knows Thor, which is saying something. The had fought together (and that is debatable, since the Hulk is arguably not Bruce) and they had shared a silent, exhausted meal in the wreckage afterwards. There had been some debriefing to deal with, but otherwise, that had been all of their interaction with each other and that was a while ago from Bruce's perspective.

But Barton had worked with them to save the world, so that entitles him to a little more trust than Bruce would give by default. "When did you get here?" He moves past the man to check the infirmary, but he's clearly paying attention to any answer he may get.

Anna rides the waves of hurt as best she can, whimpering every now and again between hisses of pain. Her ears are ringing, partly thanks to the weird pressurized atmosphere inside the station, and partly thanks to the blood rushing to her head, the adrenaline coursing in response to the pain.

And then Bro brings up Kristoff, and she feels a pang in her chest, a completely different kind of hurt. "Yeah," she pants. "He's gone." She has no idea where he is, either, what happened--if he wasn't interesting enough for their needs. If he's dead or alive. And even if her romantic feelings toward him hadn't been as strong as she'd thought, she still never wanted to see him gone. Dead.

Her head rolls onto her shoulder and Anna looks up at Bro's face, wishing this conversation wasn't happening but knowing that it has to. "I'm not--mad at you," she manages. "It's not your fault, you didn't do anything." For a moment, she chews at her lip, trying not to jolt as his cleaning hits a particularly painful part of her wound. Her voice gets especially quiet.

"I know. I know, you wouldn't--wouldn't want that." Her eyes close, resting just for a moment. She's not even thinking about how her words are sounding, the way they're coming out. "It was stupid, all of it. You can just forget about it, if you want."

"Marco." He leans over the edge, looking down at the splatter on the ground with a wrinkled nose. Not the first time he's seen some alien falls to its death. Not even the ugliest time. Still mega-gross. "So, uh, are we gonna go caveman and eat that thing, or are we just going to hold out and hope that the Gamemakers put a Burger King in this place?"

They're not allies in Marco's eyes - he doesn't trust anywhere near that quickly - but it's in his best interest to cooperate with this guy, and Kaito could have easily ditched him.

"Thanks for not leaving me to get turned into alien food, by the way."

"Only one other airlock, and not who the people who got there ahead of me and ditched it were. I shot someone for trying to strangle me but I don't know who it was or if I killed them." She released a breath in a long, slow whistle. "I haven't been around nearly as much as you think I have been, much as I appreciate how much you think I'm capable of."

She's made about five teleportation jumps this hour, and that's about her limit. Three of them were outside investigating the Cornucopia. Fortunately, it'll only take a few hours for her to recuperate.

"Sam Wilson's good people. Good kisser, too." She adds that more for the audience at home than for either Jet or Albert - after all, she knows that her best asset is still her ability to work the crowd at home. A crowd that likes a little romance stirred into their brew of slaughter and despair. "Kankri Vantas, obviously, and any of the Frenchies if you see them. My list of allies ain't all that long."

She starts walking, taking the lead even if it isn't the wisest decision.

He meets her halfway, drinking in the sight of her familiar and well beloved features before carefully checking for injuries. It's routine, really, but back home Natasha had been on a mission when Clint was taken. Seeing her again, even in a place like this, was good. Great, even. Clint still hasn't lost his initial thought process, and a part of him is screaming to fall instep with Natasha and go to ground where they'll be relatively safe until they figure this out.

But she shoots that down with her words, and he frowns, head cocked to the side.

"Team's all here?"

Clint's memories from the Battle, and the days leading up to it, are disconnected at best. Under Loki's spell, it hadn't been as if he was overwritten and pushed aside into cool unconsciousness, but rather, the very fabric of his being was unwritten and stitched back together with rapturous loyalty to the god. Remembering it makes him sick to his stomach, because Clint remembers every waking moment, and considering Loki didn't give them much leave to sleep, there's a lot he can remember.

The Battle itself meant Clint was up on high, raining arrows down like he was both judge and executioner in one. This did not mean he actually spent time with Bruce, or the Hulk, either. The latter is somewhat of a relief, the first, is not quite regretful. But they did fight together in some manner, and just like the other Avengers, Clint does have some minuscule measure of trust and respect for Bruce.

So he doesn't move from his spot, letting Bruce walk around unchallenged to check upon the infirmary. It's easy to let his gaze watch Bruce's movements, fingers restless, wishing for a bow he does not have.

"Not too long ago, heard I'm late to the party."

At Romanoff, Clint perks up. It's a subtle thing, but there's a light to his eyes, an ease in which he rests his weapons and lowers his arms.

"Yeah? You SHIELD?"

Because to Clint, it's 2012 in the heated summer months following the invasion and battle for New York. With him out on probation, it could be they partnered Natasha up with someone else for missions. Even if that was unlikely.

Given Clint had only spent a handful of hours in Steve's presence, and most of those when he'd been decked out in full Captain America regalia and mask to boot, the little wry lilt to his mouth is odd. Welcome, almost, because the person Captain America had become in modern culture, and the man Coulson had near worshiped, were never someone Clint could see himself following. So called paragons and pinnacles of humanity were all well and good, but Clint was just an ex-carnie, a former soldier and a current assassin and spy.

Not quite what one would pick for Captain America's teammate.

Still, they guy's just as human as the rest of them, and he'd let Clint join the battle without a single objection. He can't be all that bad. So Clint listens and nods, not quite wincing. But there's a harshness writ in the lines of Clint's mouth, deep set in the sharpness of his gaze.

"Just about." Wry, and convinced that this situation is complete bullshit. "You got more intel for me, Rogers?"

'I agree. You should rest too, for that matter. You may be healed but you should take it easy until we can find a way to patch your systems. Even duct tape would help.'

Jet's voice suddenly in his mind isn't jarring in the slightest, instead it soothes his fraying nerves and lets him breathe a little more easily. If they get separated, they can easily find each other, and still communicate as easily as thought. It makes the stress of the last new minutes - had it only been minutes? - melt into so much background noise.

Delilah's comment about Sam being a good kisser earns a raised eyebrow from Albert and a sidelong glance, but he doesn't comment on it. Not yet anyway. "If we're listing allies, Clementine, Terezi, Initiate, Carlos, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Bucky Barnes... honestly it might be easier to list those I wouldn't mind seeing meet a quick end." Many of the tributes he doesn't consider friends or even have a spoken pact with, but allies are allies and aside from Black Tom and Sigma, there are no others he can think of that deserve immediate attack without provocation.

"As for our immediate concern, I agree with Jet. Somewhere high up would likely be best."

She was pretty tempted to tell Haruto to move out of the way, sonce she had a soul dagger which could purge the nasty Chimera that was holding Nitou hostage and demanding mana as food, but instead she opted for rolling her eyes and casting her teleportation spell.

"Sihal novarum chinoth!" She cried, and no sooner had the words left her lips when she disappeared from the scene, leaving only swirling pink smoke and a ton of glitter in her wake.

Gary's learned his lesson this time. As soon as he's able to squirm around and find purchase on the ground, he's kicking off and loping to another door. Preferably one as far away from that scary guy who just beat the shit out of him as possible. Plans for how to actually deal with the splitting pain in his chest and arm will have to come later.

"I'd hope that blue would be fitting for me," he replied, amused before getting back to the business at hand. "No, I made a run for one of the airlocks, didn't have time to check for him in the chaos."

Against the vacuum of space, without mag boots, he was fairly certain that ignoring the cornucopia in favour of getting inside was his best option for survival. He didn't want to be one of the people out there choking on vacuum in a little while.

"Knowing Thane, he'll find us." Since with all of the shadows and dark corners, if Thane didn't want to be found, then he certainly wouldn't. "So, biotics are back, guess they want this to be a blood bath. Too bad I'm still lacking any kind of rifle."

His own mind dances over the image. He sees a young boy, with even smaller horns, nubby and bright veined and all too soft. There's his own self with him, smiling back. There's a quick flash and flutter of dark scenes, the sounds of snarling and breaking, but then the soft haze is back, and it's that same boy, only older, matching up to the image she shares with him. His thoughts say Kankri Vantas but his voodoo says;

yes. the signless. he of no sign.

He nods along all the while, and to her claim that she could find Terezi still. Just in case, he offers the faint ghost of the map he's made of her, just a faint tracing of how her mind feels to him through fear.

Then;

thank you

There's a groan out of Nitou as Megan leaves like that, as well as a growling stomach from Chimera. That really was proof that she was magical, wasn't it?

And now he's got to deal with Haruto. Haruto, who is probably about two steps away from starting to lecture and judge Nitou's deathmatch arena dining choices. Nitou decides to ignore Chimera urging him to eat the weakened Haruto instead, and he settles for a bit of cheerful misdirection in the form of abruptly changing the subject. "...what happened to you, anyway?"

"Yeah same, here. I've been spaced before, and I would just like to say, it is not my favorite way to die."

Damned pity, for everyone else though. If Shepard knew someone like Thane Krios was out to get her, there wouldn't be a bunker deep enough or a location remote enough for comfort. Although, and it brought a smile to her face to remember it, the same could be said of Archangel.

"Regardless, at least that's one assassin we don't have to panic about."

"That may be the winning strategy this time. Not terribly interesting for the viewers, and far from noble, but that's not very high on my list of priorities."

At least they've agreed to a plan. It's something. He helps her through the hall, face taut with vigilance.

Nick opens his mouth to protest when Clementine declines, but stops when he hears Luke give his answer backed up by some form of logic that Nick wish hadn't existed. If it weren't for the fact that the pipe's rather heavy, he'd have given it to Clementine already. There are many things he wants to say and he gives Luke a challenging glare (what makes him think it'll take only a minute? Anything can happen in a minute!). Despite the lack of time, he inclines forward to assert that he'll be fine without a weapon, but stops when he hears thumping noises...from the vents?

"...you guys hear that?" His eyes trail to the open vent from earlier.

He'd think it'd be another tribute but those noises definitely are not human.

"We need to get the fuck out of here!"

Her fingers are white from clutching at him, though she can luckily still walk well enough. It's more the pain hobbling her than anything else, a distinct throbbing and the occasional flash of white hot agony.

"We need to find food. There is no way this place has a food court, Tom."

The impact on the wall nearly knocks the wind out of him. The flicker from the flashlight helps him regain focus again though still disoriented. He's surprised to see Sam still here. The robot clearly was after Nick so the guy could've just made a run for it but he didn't. This isn't a moment to ask why he's still here but Nick manages to choke out a "yeah, no shit" in response as he feels its grip on him begin to loosen.

D A - MM I T N I - CK! The thing blurts out with the voice of his friend, marred with static likely from the wires being torn out. Nick doesn't know which is worse: the fact that he was dumb enough to be fooled by this thing or letting the frustration and disappointment its mimicking from Luke get to him.

It's a bit of both. And it's pissing him off.

"Shut the fuck up!" It hurts to say that, but it was worth it. The claw finally gives as it drops him to the floor. He wonders if he actually has broken a rib or two as he looks up to find another claw, eyes widening when he notices that it resembles more like a scissor, appearing behind Sam.

"Behind you!"

Clementine's glad that Luke backs up her refusal. Better yet, that has the same line of reasoning that she was thinking for why Nick should keep hold of his weapons. As much as she wants to help she's the weakest out of the three of them and she's not going to be stupid enough to pretend otherwise when they're lives are on the line.

"Right, so let's--" she freezes up at the sounds, jaw clenched and her eyes flickering at every corner of the corridor they're in. She can't tell exactly how close it is. "Crap!"

Her voice is very low as she turns to run, "This way!"

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Page 13 of 28

Arena 12 - The Spaceport

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it's great!

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this is so monstrously late and I'm sorry about that

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REUNITED AND IT FEELS SO GOOD

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