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etcircenses) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2014-12-05 09:26 pm
etcircenses) wrote in thearena2014-12-05 09:26 pm
Entry tags:
- ! arena 12,
- aang,
- anna of arendelle,
- black tom cassidy,
- bucky barnes (mcu),
- cassandra marko,
- clint barton,
- commander shepard,
- daryl dixon,
- haruto soma,
- jet link,
- karkat vantas,
- kousuke nitou,
- molotov cocktease,
- sam wilson,
- sigma klim,
- terezi pyrope,
- the grand highblood,
- the signless,
- ✘ beth greene,
- ✘ bro strider,
- ✘ brock samson,
- ✘ bruce banner,
- ✘ bucky barnes (616),
- ✘ cassian,
- ✘ clementine,
- ✘ dave strider,
- ✘ garrus vakarian,
- ✘ gary epps,
- ✘ grantaire,
- ✘ iskierka,
- ✘ kenny mccormick,
- ✘ luke,
- ✘ marco,
- ✘ milla vodello,
- ✘ natasha romanoff,
- ✘ nick (twd),
- ✘ nill,
- ✘ pixie,
- ✘ ruffnut thorston,
- ✘ samwise gamgee,
- ✘ steve rogers,
- ✘ thor odinson,
- ✘ tony stark,
- ✘ venus dee milo
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
no subject
Clementine bends down and scrabbles for every broken piece of metal she can find, filling her hands and standing back up to throw them at the creature again. She misses as much as she hits and tries not to shake as the mutt's attention turns to the little human that's trying to hurt it. The creatures makes some kind of hissing sound that chills Clem down to the bone.
It's going to come for her, it's going to. "Luke! Hurry!"
He has Nick and that's all it takes for Clementine to start backing up in a hurry, throwing the last couple pieces she has in her hands until Luke's level with her and then, then they're not alone. "Don't!" she tries to call out to the other Tributes, too late and there's nothing she can do but try and make an escape with her friends.
Clementine runs, keeping pack with Luke as he carries Nick on his shoulders. She see's the door as he points it out, "On it!"
Quickly she works to get it open and waves him inside the moment it is. Once Luke's in Clementine will follow.
no subject
“Clem!!”
For the breathless split second he’s left waiting for her – a time that seems to stretch an eternity – his brain is suddenly overrun by a noisy, vivid images of the creature catching up, the creature slamming her to the floor and tearing screaming, bleeding, too-red chunks out of her. A cold sickness roils in his gut, lingering even as she hurries in and the doors are jammed shut behind her.
Luke crouches by a corner, easing Nick off his shoulders and onto the floor before hurrying to help block off the way they came. The crates feel like they’re loaded with cinderblocks - too heavy to lift and stack without straining something or other in the process, he figures - so they make do with shoving several flush against the door as fast as adrenaline-fueled bursts of strength allow. The effort leaves him panting softly, fresh beads of sweat gathering at his temples.
“Okay-- okay, I think that’ll hold,” ‘But we probably shouldn’t stick around too long to find out’ is what’s implied and left unsaid as Luke looks away and turns his attention back to Nick, moving to his side. Kneeling, he takes him gently by the shoulder and gives him a shake.
“Nick—“ He tries while briefly looking him over, his voice low, urging. “Nick, c’mon. We--”
The rest dies in his throat as his thoughts come to a sudden, screeching halt, crashing together. Nick’s body is all too still – a realization that doesn’t quite click until he thinks to bring the back of his hand to Nick’s lips and waits to feel the heat of his breath lap his knuckles. He feels like his own breath is being crushed out of him when nothing comes.
"Oh Christ...” He gasps out. Icy tendrils of fear snake, plunging into the hollow of his chest. Stunned, he presses fingers into Nick’s throat under the hinge of his jaw, only mildly reassured by the presence of a pulse. Thready, but there. He doesn’t waste another second trying to guess at how many minutes have passed since Nick had collapsed.
It comes back to him - first aid training for his stint as a summer camp volunteer and, more recently, the brief refresher Carlos had provided - and muscle memory kicks in. He watches himself pinch Nick’s nose shut, tilting his head back and chin up with an unexpected, confident steadiness and to his hands. Pulling in a breath, he then ducks to press his mouth to Nick’s and forces air into his lungs.
Once.
Twice.
He glances tensely to Nick’s chest after the second, watching it deflate. It doesn't rise.
Fuck.
He shares another breath - and then another and another and another, fighting to tamp down the panic trying to rise into his throat and pretend this was just another training dummy. Not his best friend lying motionless and edging ever closer to that place of irreversible brain damage.
C'mon, don' do this to me, man--
no subject
Yes. She didn't hear the cannon yet. Or maybe she missed it in her panic at the creature and the screams from the Tributes who go in its way instead of them. Clem wants to believe its the first option, no cannon fire and Nick was still alive but... but she watches Luke's face, then looks down to Nick, her dark skin going paler as she see's the same thing Luke does.
"No... no!" Clementine's on her knees beside Nick's body in a second, her small hands grabbing onto and shoving his shoulder, then pushing at his chest but she's took weak to apply the force needed for what she's trying to do. "C'mon Nick! Breathe!"
She looks back up at Luke, "You have to help him! Do CPR!"
no subject
He suspects she hasn’t the muscle to exert the pressure needed to start a grown man’s heart – or stop it – but the smallest possibility is enough to put him on edge. Carlos had suggested that compressions on a beating heart could do damage, but whether it did or it didn’t they just couldn’t take that risk.
“Don’t!" Luke’s voice is tinged with desperation, fingers pressing lightly against her hand. “We don’ need to push -- his heart’s beatin’, it's fine, he jus’—“
‘Just.’ There’s no such thing as ‘just’ when a man lay dying and he recognizes the poor choice of word the moment it slips from his mouth. “--he ain’t breathin’.”
He regrets not having said so from the start what with the poor girl so ready to help. God, does he ever know what it’s like to be fiercely anxious, buzzing with pent-up energy, and yet so powerless to do anything with it. “I need you to keep a close eye on him for me,” He dips, pinching Nick’s nostrils and readying him for another breath. “Tell me if you see him movin’ or breathin’ on his own.”
Wouldn’t hurt to have a pair of extra eyes on this.
no subject
The fact that he won't really be dead isn't a comfort, especially with the looming possibility that he could come back as a Walker in the arena, a Walker that Clem and Luke would have to deal with. No, she can't think about that, she has to listen to Luke. Luke knows what he's doing, she believes that.
"O-okay, yeah, I can do that."
Swallowing thickly she looks down at Nick, willing him to go ahead and breath. "Please, Nick..."
no subject
Oh shit.
Eyelids twitch for a few seconds before they finally shoot open with Nick rising up, he'd say their names but is quickly interrupted by a coughing fit. He coughs into his hand without thinking and pulls it away when he feels the blistering sting. It had been burnt by the pipe earlier. Is this the Gamemakers' way of telling him that he should be more convincing? Would've been god damn easier if an alien wasn't sprung onto them.
He looks at them both, grateful that they're both in one piece but too dazed to formulate proper words. With the look on his face though, it's easy to tell that he's saying "sorry", like he let them down.
no subject
Nearly all his energy is sucked into the desperate struggle to shove aside the growing hopelessness threatening to crush him under its weight -- and he’s so absorbed in the cycle of filling and refilling Nick’s lungs and pausing briefly between sets to eye his chest that he almost misses the flicker of Nick’s eyelids.
His heart jumps with a shiver of fearful hope.
“Nick…?” Luke draws back, staring – and just in time, it seems, because Nick’s sitting up faster than he expects, coughing and coughing. Definitely not walker behaviour. He presses a hand against Nick’s back for support, ducking his head a little to look into his face.
It's impossible to gauge the level of pain he might be in. But Luke is convinced that he'd at least have a pretty a good idea if Nick were dipping into shock.
His voice drops low, careful, gentle. "Nick, jus'... lie down a second. Or lean up against this wall. Catch your breath." He rubs at his back unthinkingly, glancing to Clem. They could spare a few minutes. Hopefully.
no subject
He's not dead, he's alive, for now he's alive. Thank God. She bites back the urge to cry and takes deep calming breath. They're not out of the woods yet, they won't be for weeks, not until the arena's over and they've come out of it one way or another. It's a dark thought but true, Clem's gone through this enough times now to know it.
At least this moment is a victory. Nick isn't dead despite the Gamemaker's best attempts to kill him so early on, Luke saved him and that's something. "You're okay, Nick, we got away." she tries to reassure him, "We're safe for now."
The door is sturdy and there's no sound of anything else coming at them.
no subject
His heart's beating faster than it ever had, maybe even more so than it did when they all walked through that walker horde. He blinks away those thoughts - he's supposed to calm down after all. Clementine's reaction is unexpected but not unwelcome, though mostly out of his own sense of self-loathing than it is her. The girl is tough, but also good. She and Luke both went back for him when it was smarter to just leave him behind. That's what he thinks anyway, but he's grateful still. Hopeful, even.
"Thanks guys," he says with a look that is also apologetic. What happened may have been out of his control but he doesn't intend to let them down or put them in danger because of his shitty luck. He looks at his hand again making a face at the blisters already forming and the skin wanting to peel off.
"Well, I'm off to a fuckin' good start."
no subject
“You’re alive,” Luke emphasizes with a tone that leaves no room for any diminishment of the fact. Nasty as Nick’s hand looks, all bubbled up with blisters like batter on a griddle, it’s far better to see him in pain but alive than the alternative. This they could actually attempt to treat granted that they found the necessary supplies.
“Jesus Christ…” Hushed incredulity. He shakes his head as the events of the last few minutes wash over him, his pulse still pulsing wildly in his throat. “That shock knocked the breath right out a' you... thought it might a’ stopped your heart. It wasn't lookin' too good for a while.”
There’s a shift of his jaw and a pained, worried knit to his brow, his lips pressing tight just a moment. And it's all the emotion he’s allowing himself - all that he can - before he swallows away the thickness in his throat and blinks his eyes clearer. “How’s the rest a' you doin'? If you start hurtin' pretty bad while we're on the move, jus' say somethin', okay? We'll figure somethin' out."
no subject
"I'm glad you're alive." she says, adding her own voice to what Luke said. "We can probably stay here a little longer if you need to."
A little longer but not too long. They have no food, no water and Clementine is willing to bet those resources in the arena are probably finite. If they don't hurry up and find some the other Tributes might take them first and going out that way sounds worse than any of her other deaths.
It's not a death she wants for her friends, either.
no subject
Something about the shock tells him that the Gamemakers could've made it stronger, but they only needed him just barely, dead to let those mutts get to him. Assholes, all of them. There isn't much they can do about it now. They're doing even less just sitting here and Nick isn't going to let the group slow down on his account.
"I'll be fine," he tells them both, moving to stand while ignoring the brief dizzy spell he just got. "Could use some medicine if there are any."
But he can move, and that's what matters.
no subject
Keeping to a room with one of the exits blocked off wasn't the safest either, he muses. There's no knowing who - or what - might enter from the other side.
“Okay y’all,” He looks between Nick and Clem, seeking their attention, their agreement. It comes as a relief when he doesn’t have to urge Nick to his feet prematurely – though he does eye him, prepared to steady him if need be. “Keep your eyes open for anythin’ that seems like it could be useful - we'll probably have to get creative here. We’re lookin’ for food, water, better weapons, an’ medical supplies. Someplace to rest would be nice.” Then, to Nick: “We'll see if we can find somethin' for that burn.”
no subject
"Yeah. Okay." she turns her head and looks at Luke, nodding. "Let's keep moving."
Turning round she picks up a piece of metal from the floor, it's as good a weapon as she'll get for now. "There has to be something around here."
Maybe if they're lucky there'll be sponsor gifts soon, she thinks, not yet realising that there'll be none of that in this arena. Until then they just had to keep moving.