Panem Events (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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.
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"I couldn't see their face," she says, almost whimpering as the wound cracks again and bleeds. "It was.... light maybe, light from their hand. And then they were gone, as soon as they hit me. They just disappeared."
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"They've enabled people's superpowers." He shoves the charm away. "We need to get the burn covered. It's liable to get infected, and Lord only knows what they have around here."
He could rip apart his space suit, but he pauses. He may need it later, and while he does care for Molotov - more than he might care to admit - he doesn't know if it's enough to start funneling his resources at her.
He starts ripping apart hers. It's useless with the giant hole in it anyway.
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But her father had never anticipated that she'd be shot in the stomach with a laser. She can keep going with a bullet in her gut, with knife wounds in her back, but this... this is something she wasn't really prepared for, as stupid as that may have been on her part. She'd heard that the powers were triggered by things won, she didn't know it would just be automatic like this.
She doesn't seem to care when he starts tearing at her suit, exposing the hot pink thin suit underneath that she hates because it clashes with her hair. She just holds onto him, knuckles white with her grip, and slowly cracks her eyelid to look at his face as he works. Reaching out to touch his face, all she can do is whisper with a sort of pained smile.
"Promise me you'll burn them all to ashes when I'm gone."
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He doesn't have time to meet her eyes. He's looking through what she brought with her, instead. There- there! In the supplies, a medical kit. He snaps it open and rummages through it until he finds a tube with familiar ingredients.
"This is going to hurt like the devil, so hold my arm." She can leave bruises on his bicep if she wants. He half-empties the tube of antiseptic onto the injury, then follows it with burn gel. "And for what it's worth, I already got three of them for you."
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Molotov cries out instead when he disinfects her wound, her nails pressing hard into his arm, her whole face contorted with the severe shock of pain that accompanies the gel. The burn cream is better, cooling enough to let her exhale and loosen her hold, her head falling back to the floor with relief.
"That's good. Don't be a dick to me, Tom."
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He grits his teeth a little as her nails manage to break skin even through the dark green suit. And when she relaxes, he leans forward and presses a kiss to her forehead. Her skin has sweat a little from the strain of it all. He starts to wind gauze and fabric around her.
"Then maybe you should thank me for fixing your burn."
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"I'll thank you after the Arena," she mumbles, feeling the cold floor underneath her, her muscles slowly unwinding enough to let her focus on anything besides her damaged body, the dwindling fire of pain receding from every nerve. "You'll like that better anyway."
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"There. That's the best I can do for you." He sits back, concern knitting a wrinkle into his forehead. "Can you stand?"
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There's a moment where Molotov tries to push up on her elbows, only to wince and groan and scrunch her face up with pain. "Help me up."
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"That's certainly the plan. Although superpowers being in the fray is a spanner in the works."
Look, he killed Thor last time. He's pretty sure having an angry god with a grudge against you is all the worse when that god has powers.
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"Well, we can let most of them sort each other out?" she suggests, half-heartedly, more focussed on how terrible she currently feels. "If they use their powers to maul each other, we can just lay low. We might need to, until I can move better."
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At least they've agreed to a plan. It's something. He helps her through the hall, face taut with vigilance.
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"We need to find food. There is no way this place has a food court, Tom."
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He slows down his pace, trying to keep her from tiring on him.
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/wrap