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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It's been a busy Arena so far. Certainly not a good one by any means, perhaps a little better than the time so many people exploded in the first few seconds. He's reunited with Carlos, treated his wounds and now he's in search of someone in possession of a medical kit. He should have made a run for the Cornucopia, but considering all the carnage surrounding it perhaps he made the better choice.

In a similar manner to Gary, Thor is striding the halls with little fear or regard for his surroundings. With his powers back, he doesn't have all that much to worry about. Except for frantic teen trying too hard to regain swagger colliding into his broad chest right now.

He doesn't give much more of a response than a grunt and a step back. He levels an unimpressed look on Gary, quirking a brow as he waits for him to explain this. Because, y'know, it's clearly his fault.

Gary's response is a bit more dramatic. There's a gasp, then an instinctive scuttle backwards to put some distance between himself and this...impressively muscular fellow he's just run into. These sleeker spacesuits don't leave a lot to the imagination. All the better for Gary to see just how big of a mess he's gotten himself into immediately after escaping another. He should run now.

...But he's not attacking, not yet, which means there's still a chance to bargain with him. And Gary does think he's familiar. Annoyingly so. What was his name again? Why does this feel so important? The adrenaline has a way of muddying the finer details of Gary's memories, he's found. It'll come to him in a moment.

If he has a moment to spare, anyways. "--Wait!" Gary holds up his working arm, looking somewhere between ready to flee and ready to make the most important decision of his teenage life. Neither happens, of course, he just wants to get Thor's attention and make sure he doesn't snap while Gary tries to remember what he needs to do here. In the meanwhile, he just stands there and waits for a reaction, or for the appropriate information to surface. Whichever comes first.

It's a response that Thor is more than used to at this rate. He understands that he makes for a formidable looking opponent in Arenas, not everybody knows that he has no intention of killing anyone. It's hard to express as much in a single gesture, particularly when he's rightly annoyed at someone for bumping into him when he wasn't watching what he was doing.

Gary is young, too young for him to even pretend to be threatening. He shakes his head and moves to stride past him, but the fact that he calls out to him has Thor pausing and lifting a brow at him once more.

"What?" He asks plainly, looking expectantly at Gary while showing no signs of thin patience or liability to attack.

"Um!" Shit. Think, Epps! Where has he seen this guy before? Big guy, tall, imposing, blonde hair. Blonde. A lock of blonde hair. That's it! Gary perks up as the recognition hits him. "--I need a favor. Just a quick one. Uh." Wait, no, he needs to make sure he's got this right. Gary squints. "You're Thor, right?"

Thor's eyes are practically boring into Gary as he preforms his silent, mental gymnastics. He doesn't look particularly impressed, unsurprisingly, but he waits all the same.

"A bold request, in here." He points out, but he's curious enough to hang around. "Aye. I am, what of it?" He wonders if, like the Capitol children, Gary wants an autograph.

Tough crowd, yes, but Gary's performed for tougher. At least Thor hasn't denied him completely--vague interest is better than no interest. Gary straightens and squares his shoulders, as if trying to match Thor's imposing stature.

"I need some of your hair."

Maybe an autograph would have been better. Gary doesn't even think about how weird this sounds until the words have already come out of his mouth, and by this point he's too committed to backpedal. His expression remains flat.

Gary's attempt to match Thor's stance is garnering amusement more than respect or awe. He would never hurt or dismiss someone in need. He does, however, consider wandering off when he makes that ridiculous request.

"Pardon?" He asks, after furrowing his brows and balking for a long moment. He lifts a hand to his braid, narrowing his eyes at Gary. "For what reason?"

Yes, that braid, that's perfect. Gary encourages him with an eager stare and nodding. "The, uh--yeah! Hair. I need it." Having to repeat himself just makes it more awkward. The teen chews his lip while he thinks of the least embarrassing way to explain himself. "For a friend. Seen you walking around, thinks you're a pretty awesome guy, too scared to talk to you. You know how it is."

If you think you're getting a whole braid, you have another thing coming, Gary. Thor will need a very good reason to walk around with an odd tuft coming out the side of his head. Right now, he doesn't look particularly convinced.

He shifts his weight, tilting his chin up so he can stare down his nose at Gary. It's like he's sizing him up before he's dropping his head back down so he can just barely smirk.

"I see no reason to reward your friend if he cannot bring himself to face me himself." And he sounds skeptical, like he thinks this friend may actually be Gary.

Technically the friend is Marco, and calling Marco a 'friend' would be a bit of a stretch anyways, but something about ratting out his betting partner feels...unclean. Like he's breaking some kind of sacred oath. Gary would rather spew a bunch of shit about him and let Thor find out for himself when they meet.

Meanwhile, there are holes to dig. Gary's hopeful smile, painted on while Thor considered his offer, flickers to a desperate grimace. "Aw, come on man! He's your biggest fan!" He pauses, thinks quickly. Maybe a different appeal will strengthen his odds? "--I-I'll make it worth your while."

"I've nothing to cut it with." He points out, a little exasperated at the fact that he's sincerely considering this. He ought to challenge Gary more, but he's a busy man with a lot of irons in the fire.

"I've no desire to wrench my hair from my scalp." He says lowly, with a furrowed brow. "And I do not believe there is much you could provide me with to convince me otherwise."

That's what he's worried about? Suddenly his goal seems much more achievable. "Oh! Yeah, no problem," Gary assures with an emphatic nod. Really he has no idea. But there are a lot of doors around, presumably leading to new and unexplored rooms--how hard could it be to find a pair of scissors or something hiding in one of them? "I know just the thing..."

Gary doesn't wait for any protests before trotting to the nearest door, stopping only for it to open and to make sure Thor isn't wandering off.

There's an increasing level of exasperation in Thor's person as Gary remains steadfast in his approach. It's as admirable as it is irritating at this point, and that's probably why he hangs around. He levels an unimpressed look on Gary and steps a little closer, walking with an air of impatience even if he's clearly still hanging around.

"Make haste." He warns. "I cannot linger long." He has God things to do, Gary.

God things will have to wait, Thor, particularly once the door opens and Gary notices a distinct lack of sharp stuff in the room they've entered. That's his bluff, called. He doesn't really have any ideas for how to improvise something scissor-like, not with anything immediately visible...maybe he can buy more time?

Does he need more time?

That's a thought Gary has learned to stop entertaining since he's arrived in the Capitol and they took his powers. But he realizes now, with a pang of excitement, that he can consider that option here--the world moves slowly in this space station, and for the first time in several months, Gary isn't moving slowly with it. He doesn't have to wait.

This is just about the only motivation Gary needs to act. As soon as Thor lines up with him at the door, Gary whips around, makes a grab at Thor's luxuriously long hair and pulls hard with a snap of his wrist, all practically within the blink of an eye.

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Arena 12 - The Spaceport

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