Mini Arena 4

[etcircenses]

Tributes are woken early to be taken onto the hovercrafts. Each Tribute and participating Mentor receives an injection. Resistance will not be tolerated. In short time, they will fall unconscious only to wake within a room of a boat.

25 - 24 - 23

Participants have all already been dressed in a District marked thermal suit, for water, heat, and cold, though not resistant to extreme temperatures.

20 - 19 - 18 - 17 - 16

The platforms await them, sure death to come to those who don't move along, only to find no Cornucopia in sight. Instead, they stand among only the Tributes from their District and a harsh winter just outside the windows of the boat. There are stairs leading down into the rooms that hold the Cornucopia items, and a door leading outside where a heavy lifeboat waits. The boat gives a terrible creak, familiar to those who saw or took part in the second mini arena.

11- 10 - 9 - 8

They've all been warned, don't step off your pedestal early. They have also been warned to put on a good show. That's all this is about, a good show. None of them have been told that there can be multiple winners this time around.

5 - 4

3

2

The sound of the gong plays crystal clear within the boat. The games have begun.

Comments

Day 2 Locked to The Batter and Phil Guy AKA Phone Grey

[justoutrunyou]

It had been a rough day and a half but Sandy was finally starting to feel like she had a handle on the situation.

Already bruised up from her first few encounters with the other tributes she took little comfort in the ruins of the city that rose up around her. This was not an arena she was familiar with, but it was a setting she knew all too well.

"This is just like a coming home...if everything was a lot greener." She muttered to herself studying some of the flowers curiously and hoping they weren't secretly poisonous.

A howl of the wild dogs roaming the streets was a warning that she shouldn't linger for long. If this arena was like the others, it would be a race against time. Hefting her crowbar over her shoulder she took off at a light jog through the streets, unaware of the true danger lurking just beyond the next bent stop sign and crooked alleyway.

[expurge]

It's been harder than he'd anticipated. He finds himself lamenting the loss of the Add-Ons, his allies in battle that would always lend their assistance in such situations. But this is a free for all, evenly matched (suposedly) smaller arena, and his battle companions are nowhere to be found. For a smaller arena as such, this shouldn't be as difficult as it is.

He's already wounded, from a previous scuffle and unfortunate tumble. He's pretty sure he's cracked a rib and the scrape across his hip is likely to get infected with something out here, but he presses on, a tight grip on his bloodied machete and the arrows and bow strapped to his back. It's only when he can hear another voice not too distant that he switches focus and hurries to crouch near the edge of the alley, notching a previously used arrow. Waste not.

He waits, breathes slowly and evenly. He peers around the corner to spot the girl - young, but just another tribute, such is the way of life here. Though he knows his skill with the bow isn't perfect, he waits until he can hear her quicken her pace, before turning around the corner and firing the arrow towards her legs. He can't aim a killing blow with a flimsy weapon and little training, but he can make her bleed, and no matter how far she runs, she'll leave a perfect trail for him to follow.

Day 1- Linden, PG and Karkat

[dead_black_eyes]

Some past Victors have been Reaped, and Linden is among them. He had been as shocked as he had the energy to allow, but there wasn't time for anything. No training that would have meant much in the long run, no chance for appeals and attempts to get Sponsors outraged. It seems like everyone is thirsting to see Panem's brightest stars fight the Offworlders and each other... and very likely die a permanent death, should the odds not be in their favor.

He goes quietly, all things considered. When he sees the needle, he does go white and plead for literally anything else, swearing compliance, but he gentles down when he understands that it's not only him and therefore not a staged Morphling overdose. The injection knocks him out fast and it's not until an unspecified amount of time later that he's waking up in the room of a boat wearing a thermal suit that clings even to his bone-thin frame, alongside two Tributes from his District. That winter looks brutal, even by Northern standards.

Once the gong sounds, he doesn't chance the stairs, recognizing the Cornucopia's siren song as a lousy bet to make unless you wanted to get caught up in a flurry of bludgeoning and blades. He sees Karkat dash for it, though, and he turns toward PG, pale but calm.

"Help me with the boat. I want to have it ready to go by the time Karkat's back. The faster we can get away from here, the better our chances are at making it somewhere we can find cover without interception."

Because everyone else running for the cornucopia in full Districts will get a later start, and he doesn't want to get caught in that well-armed fleet.

[voiceinthephone]

Phil could still hear Foxy's barking when men came into his room and shot the Tribute full of whatever was in the injection. But this was a Reaping, plain and simple, and the price to pay for living in Panem. He's a bit unnerved that he's dressed in something so tight while the familiar biting cold brings him back to his first Arena. He stands up and surveyed the arena when-

The moment Gray hears Linden's voice, he's stunned with the surprise. What the hell is he doing here?! He's a Victor, he won his arena- Looking for common sense in the Capitol was like finding a dodo, long extinct, stuffed and displayed in a museum. Karkat had taken the lead to the Cornucopia, probably to get supplies. He and Lockhearst were on the boat and

"Right," Phil agreed and ready to act, "What do you need me to do?" Push, shove, row, anything to ensure that no one has to die, Phone Guy will do it.

Day 3 - The mall is no place to die (locked to Peggy Carter)

[shiftingurbulls]

Ellis knows that he had to fight on in the Arena, especially one so varied like this. He already had to say good-bye to Nick, to someone he'd grown to care for far more than just a friend. He didn't want to make the death any more in vain...and the crushing of his skull to lose any significance.

The Mini-Mall was even more bittersweet for the Savannah Survivor, more so from his own experiences. The derelict reminded him of the first time Nick, Rochelle and Coach first escaped the Hordes in search of an evacuation center. It's also the same place where he saw a zombified Jimmy Gibbs Jr. meander the commercial floor...and...

"OH COME ON," the mechanic let out as a frustrated groan, because of course, the food court is destroyed.

[impaledqueen]

Peggy won the classic Hunger Games, back when all the competitors were children facing a final death. In those Games, you didn't fight fair. You fought to win, or you died. Now, Peggy's fighting in the Games again, and even if most of her competitors will come back to life after death, she doesn't think she can say the same.

So she will fight dirty. She has a knife made from a stick and a claw harvested from one of her earlier victims. She also has an arm yanked off of one of the mannequins as a blunt weapon. The arm has more reach than the knife, so she picks it when she hears a man making noise.

She creeps towards the Mini-Mall, spotting her opponent quickly. Ellis from District 4 with a score of 7. In the arena Peggy had observed him in (though she had studied the competitors with her own Tributes' strategies in mind, not her own), he proved he wasn't a pacifist, so she should probably expect him to fight back instead of run away when she attacks.

She sneaks up as quietly as she can behind him and swings the arm towards his head. If she can crack his skull and knock him out, she can cut his throat quickly and move on.

Day 1 - locked to Peggy Carter

[letthemburn]

Ships are not, and never will be, Iskierka's favorite things. Most of this has to do with the fact that getting anywhere by dragon transport is a long and boring journey, back at home. That said, she hadn't exactly been fond of entering the Arena only to find herself standing on sinking boat. She's been here before and she doesn't have fond memories of it.

(Nor does she expect there to be a convenient set of islands to stop on, like there'd been last time.)

Once it's clear that there's no salvaging the ship, Iskierka fights her way to the deck of the ship, ignoring the Cornucopia quite entirely - running for it has done her no favors lately and after the recent spate of dreams Iskierka is feeling more than a little inclined to make her own luck.

It's for that reason that she ignores the lifeboat so prominently on display. She has no idea how to even pilot a boat, and she has wings besides; why should she not make use of those and claim someone else's boat later.

This, as it turns out, is a better plan in theory than in practice. None of the boats turn out to be good targets - while she is willing enough to make a go at them none of them have few enough people that it's a good idea without her flames, and by the point she's realizing that, the icebergs have already reason up around them, and she's not so maneuverable as to want to try around those.

By the time the shore line begins to loom up on the horizon, Iskierka is already beginning to regret her actions. While it's not yet pushing the limits of what she can manage, it's a longer flight than she's done at any point since first arrived in Panem.

It's only by luck that she spots Peggy near the shore not long after arriving there herself, and after the long flight, Iskierka isn't so much as caring about who she picks off. She stoops, without a second thought, and without the slightest concern that Peggy might think to look up. Iskierka's only concern is to get out of the air for a time; if that should also happen to earn her some small benefit so much the better.

[impaledqueen]

A typical human's predator doesn't fly. Typical predators stay on land, and that is where humans tend to look. Peggy is no exception.

But she's ready to make exceptions when giant mysterious shadows suddenly appear on the ground. And when they are swiftly getting bigger.

Peggy looks up from her work sharpening a stick she found. A dragon. Red. It could be an arena obstacle or one of the Tributes (Iskierka, District 1, score of 10, the only dragon competitor), but she can't tell which from the split second she sees it. It has to die no matter what it is.

With a curse, she thrusts forward with her spear, aiming to stab the dragon in its underbelly as it swoops down.

Day 1 | OTA

[tucky]

Once they were all off the ship and had navigated the ice flows, Tiffany didn't stick with her fellow District 1 Tributes for long. They were, in her mind, her allies by default - but she didn't know them well, and they had their own things to attend to.

Unluckily for her, she'd overlooked the bags entirely in her effort to help launch the lifeboat and get off the ship as soon as possible, which means she has nothing in the way of weapons or supplies. As soon as she's on dry land, she hightails it to the woods as soon as possible, grabbing up the first sturdy-looking stick that she sees and whittling it against any hard surface that she can find. It'll never be deadly, but it should be able to cause injury - and this time, she tells herself, she won't be holding back.

Day 3 - Locked to Altair (Desert to Hedge Maze)

[voiceinthephone]

Whether or not Phil intended to take two lives, their blood still stained his thermal suit as he made his way in the desert. He hated himself so much for letting his rage blind him into killing both Ermac and the strange pale man that murdered Sandy. He promised Linden and, before then, the ghostly children and Fitzergald that he'd be a good man, that he'd never kill anyone. No amount of rationalization, that the people would come back and that he wasn't a monster like the serial killer, took away from the overwhelming illness in his stomach.

But with Karkat and his mentor gone, Gray had to put aside his self-loathing and push on, to give District 6 one more chance at a victory. Lockhearst warned him, that a Victory carried a heavy price; Phil didn't want their deaths to be in vain. As he made through the last hurdle, Phone Guy could see hedges loom on the horizon but it couldn't be this easy.

What now? What fresh hell do the Gamemakers have for this? he thought before he heard the low sounds of a creature he'd never heard before. He immediately ducked against the nearest obstacle and held his breath.

Oh this is NOT going to be a walk to the park.

Re: Day 3 - Locked to Altair (Desert to Hedge Maze)

[theflyingone]

Altaïr was a man who technically killed for a living, though he and his Brothers restricted their victims to those who caused widespread suffering, and the armed guards who protected such madmen. Yet he broke that Creed once last arena, and that shook his faith in himself. He had always been considered strong, even stubborn. Who he was and what he did were so closely intertwined. He used to act with such conviction. Now he questioned everything.

Now that he was in an arena for the second time, he worried he might come into contact with something like that strange sword in the stone and go mad again. The frightening thing was, being insane had seemed so normal at the time, so par the course. He'd truly believed he was in the right when he cut down Jack Sparrow in cold blood.

When he heard the stomping and heavy breathing of something supernaturally large, he halted for the first time in a while. He knew it was too difficult to tell which way the invisible creature was looking to even think about bringing it down. He kept to the edges of the area, trying to make for the distant shelter of the hedges. His path brought him inevitably towards Phil.

Against a behemoth, it only made sense to get together and work a plan out. Altaïr had had enough of avoiding people both in and out of the arena. Back home, he'd recently had a bout of insisting on working alone. Now he saw the folly in this, and why most important missions were carried out by small teams. He couldn't do anything to draw Phil's attention and risk the monster catching on, so he silently moved from cover to cover as the giant footsteps boomed a little away, hoping Phil might see him. He also hoped Phil would stay put and let him come to him. Altaïr was the more stealthy of the two.

Day 1 | OTA

[foundafamily]

A mini arena. Because they didn’t have enough arenas already. The concept is new to Firo, but he accepts it with only a little internal moaning about his cursed luck. Once they’re off the boats, his sole goal is to keep moving. He’s tempted to stay in the old city for a while, as it’s more his speed than the wilderness areas. But he also knows that it might not be the place to find his friends, so he continues on. He pauses again in Fantasyland, ogling at how bizarre the whole thing is.

At any point in his journey, he may hear movement nearby and slowly scan the area. His voice is calm but guarded when he speaks.

“I don’t got a problem with you if you don’t got a problem with me.”

Day 1 : Chuck, Derek, and Peggy team up threads

[impaledqueen]

Making Camp - Generic Starter

[impaledqueen]

They camp out in the forest around the nuclear plant near a stream. It's not a good place to linger, but there are prey animals out here and no one knows when they will find something to eat again in the arena. There's a small fire (there were some worries about it signaling their position to others, but they don't intend to stick around for too long) with meat cooking on a spit.

Day 1 | OTA

[bravelyplucked]

[A]
There's only so much constant moving Torin can do before he needs a break. If he'd known about this ahead of time, he could have trained more, could have done more. Even though he tries to keep himself in top shape, he's forced to face the fact that he has somehow gotten old in the years after his own Arena. His stamina's not as good, and he has nothing from the Cornucopia. It's not all that promising.

He's stopped to take a bit of a breather in the bookstore, crouching down among the stacks of books as he takes a rest. He can scan the shelves for a volume with his name on it as he sits there, so long as he takes care not to let his guard down. Not that he's really spoiling for a fight right now, but he'll defend himself if he must.

[B]
It isn't until he's made it back to the prehistoric area that Torin begins to relax. He's got this. He's got this. More importantly, he is home. It's not quite the same as his Arena had been, but it's closer than he could have hoped for.

He wishes he were better equipped. If he had a sword, a knife, something sharp...he could win this. He knows this sort of terrain, knows these animals...he probably looks way too happy as he moves through this area, looking for things he can use. He is going to tame a dinosaur, regardless of whether or not these mutts were intended for such things. If he's got to die, that's how he wants to go.

He's happy up until the point the sky changes, anyway. Until the meteors start falling again. That is more than he can handle.

A

[foundafamily]

Firo hauls himself out of the boats with no clear goal except finding his friends. Given that his only real experience with the wilderness came from previous Arenas, he speeds through those areas and moves towards civilization.

He ducks into the store just to get out of the open and is surprised to find someone else already there. Empty hands in plain view, he takes a few cautious steps forward. If the guy's just hanging around in a bookstore... maybe he's friendly.

"No offense, pal, but now doesn't seem like the time to be readin'."

Day 1 - Locked to Sandy Marko (City Ruins)

[voiceinthephone]

With every other Districtmate gone...and now the blood of another Tribute in his hands, Phil Gray wasn't okay. Not by any stretch of the word. He could barely keep anything down in his stomach, he hated himself so much that, while he wasn't the Murderer back home...he'd become a killer. His face was bandaged up from the encounter with Ermac, he couldn't hide what he did to get it. Phil just wanted to die, he couldn't-

No...no, don't let those sacrifices be in vain. I-I have to keep going, he chided himself as he tried to breathe clearer, Focus on the task at hand. What happened, happened, and there's no turning back.

He recognized the streak of blonde hair and short stature anywhere, Sandy had been reaped as well. Keep her safe. Keep the children safe, do what you need to do to ensure that.

[justoutrunyou]

With a crowbar hoisted on her shoulder and an Axe on her belt Sandy had to admit she might have been feeling a little cocky.

Her steady pace kept her plodding along the walls of buildings wanting to keep close and peering around corners before continuing on. The last thing she needed now was something to pop out and scare her.

Still...paranoia began to creep up on her and she slowed her pace casting a glance upwards. What if something dropped down on her from one of these office buildings? Something like the angels?

Gripping her crow bar tighter she inched further into the street. More visible perhaps but more room to move around.

Day 1 - District 4 boat

[sociopathicwolf]

It's been six years since Derek was in the arena, but part of him never left. So when the countdown ends, even though this Cornucopia is very different from his, he automatically makes a run for the nearest bundle of supplies.

There's someone going for the same backpack as he is, and without even thinking about it, Derek reacts to protect what isn't even his. He turns with a snarl, lip curled and teeth bared and eyes wild, as he grabs whatever he can get a hold of on whoever the hell is going for what he wants. He yanks hard, tossing the person aside like he has no more concern for them than for a barrel or something that might be in his way.

But he sees a flash of red hair out of the corner of his eye - it's not Chuck, he knows it's not, he'd have never laid a hand on Chuck like that - but it's still enough to get him to hesitate, to stop in his run for the supplies and take stock of his surroundings.

To realize that it was Anna he'd tossed aside, and that he'd maybe thrown her a little harder than he meant to, injured her in a way that... may not be to their best advantage, with the four of them stuck on the boat like this.

He looks over at Chuck. There'd never been a question of whether or not he and Chuck would work together, but the boat's sinking and they don't have a lot of options here. Derek doesn't want to say it, but the four of them are probably going to have to work together to get out of this.

welp

[rediscover]

The nerves have yet to get to her.

Sure, there are always jitters, but Anna came so close last time, and performed so much better than she ever had, that she's psyched herself into thinking that this time will be a breeze. After all, it's a mini-Arena. How bad could it be?

The fact that they're on a boat has yet to really sink in. But it does remind her, rather eerily, of her first mini-Arena. And how terribly it had gone for her--she'd been crushed by an anchor, after having a small string of panic attacks belowdecks. But this time, this time will be different.

The countdown ends, and Anna bolts for the supplies stowed belowdecks. She's got her eye on a backpack that's surely stuffed with useful goodies, but before she can make it anywhere near, she's being hurled out of the way by her own Mentor.

Her first reaction is to yelp loudly, but that noise is cut off with a sickening slide of flesh, and for a moment Anna whites out, blinded by the pain radiating from her left shoulder. She's disoriented--not really even sure what's happened, just that she can't feel her left arm and there's a terrible pain ebbing through the shoulder. She tries to move--and that's when she lets out a scream, because she's impaled her shoulder on an exposed metal rod sticking out from a pile of rubble.

Bile rises in her throat. Words fail her.

Day 1 - closed to Torin

[sociopathicwolf]

It's been in the back of Derek's mind since they were taken on board the hovercraft, knowing that he and Chuck couldn't both make it out of the arena. There can only be one Victor, and Derek knows better than to believe the Capitol would let him and Chuck get away with what Katniss and Peeta pulled. Derek isn't anywhere near popular enough for the Gamemakers to bend rules like that, and he knows without question that only one of them would make it out of this alive.

He never believed it would be him.

But that's still true, really - it isn't going to be him. Chuck is the only reason that Derek won his games, and without him there isn't a reason to win. There isn't a reason for anything.

There's still blood crusted on Derek's hands, under his jaw and in the corner of his mouth, and he doesn't know if it's Chuck's or one of the other Tributes he's killed, but it doesn't matter anymore. He's pretty much given up.

And yet - yet he's still going, still slaughtering any of the zombies he comes across, still geared up for a fight if he runs into another Tribute. He's resigned himself to not coming out of this, but he doesn't know how to stop fighting.

So when he comes across some signs that tell him that someone's been this way, and recently - Derek drops down into a crouch, automatically going on the hunt as he follows whoever it is.

[bravelyplucked]

It has quickly become obvious to Torin that this way is not the direction in which he needs to be traveling. He knows his best chance for continued survival lies in finding a wilderness area he can try to hide out in, making a small camp until the others tire themselves out with fighting.

He's reversing direction, trying to retrace his steps so he can try to go along a different path, find a better place to rest. He's tense and alert as well, but his senses just aren't what they used to be. It's likely Derek will notice him before he notices Derek.

Day 1- Closed to Linden, Ermac, PG

[dead_black_eyes]

Since getting separated from Karkat, Linden and Phillip had resolved to stay together no matter what. Even if Linden's slowing down their progress a little by this point, he's armed with the poisoned seashells, which are sharp enough to pierce skin, and he carries one at the ready at all times with rope from the boat wrapped around his hand to avoid accidentally cutting himself on an edge or point. He has to stop and rest on occasion, but as long as they're keeping their eyes and ears open for the approach of other Tributes, stealthy or otherwise, they can afford to move at a pace that doesn't stress and fatigue them.

Until, of course, the ground is quaking and a four-tusked monstrosity is barreling toward them. through the bracken and brush. Staying together isn't just unwise, it's practically not even an option as the two men split and sprint in opposite directions. Linden's weapons are too delicate to even put a dent in the mammoth mutt, and as the noise fades further into the background, he realizes that he's not the one being chased. Phillip might be running in a hopeless attempt to outpace his own doom, but he's probably doing it to draw the beast away from his flagging, ashen Mentor.

He doesn't appear to be in immediate danger, even though his heart is pounding in his thin chest and his legs feel like rubber. He needs a second to catch his breath and recoup his strength; then, maybe, he can retrace his steps and go back for Phillip just in case it's not too late and he was somehow able to shake the rampaging Mammoth's trajectory.

Unfortunately, he is very alone, and though he's not unarmed, he certainly looks it.

[glowygreendeath]

Ermac had gotten seperated from his own district-mates soon after they'd abandoned their boat on the shore, and had decided to head toward the city. If he was going to find Sandy anywhere, then the giant landmark that was the ruined city seemed like a safe bet. He was unarmed, but he didn't need a weapon; his hands were more than deadly enough on their own.

His journey is interrupted when he spots an unfamiliar Tribute running in the forest. What luck. He could finish this one off in a spectacular kill, and make the forest just a little bit safer.

Despite looking like a warlock, Ermac slips silently through the forest, drawing on his early years as a sort of ninja to stalk his target until they reach an heavily wooded area that slopes to one side and gives Ermac the high ground. Perfect. There wouldn't be much room to fight, so it would have to be very close-quarters. There would be nowhere for this one to run.

Ermac pauses while Linden unwittingly gets into the perfect position for an ambush, then leaps out from his cover. His foot snaps out before he touches the ground, catching Linden under the chin.

Day 1 - closed to Chuck

[sociopathicwolf]

The zombies that swarmed them are just about wiped out by the time Derek runs, but he doesn't stop to make sure they're completely taken care of. Peggy's fine, Peggy can take care of herself, the only thing on Derek's mind right now is Chuck.

Maybe he saved all of their lives with the stunt he just pulled, but Derek's never been more terrified than he is right now. His only thought is getting Chuck the fuck away from all of this - not to safety, there is no safety in the arena, but away. At least somewhere where they can take a minute, figure out how bad this is, what they're going to need to do to keep going.

The second he saw Chuck go down, he'd charged in, barreling through the remaining zombies to get to him. It's not as easy as it used to be when they were kids, picking him up, but Derek still manages it just fine. As soon as Chuck is in his arms, he makes a break for it, running with everything he has.

When they're far enough away that Derek can't hear any signs of life - or unlife - he slows, carefully crouching down to set Chuck down.

Please be okay, he thinks, but he can't say that, because saying that is acknowledging the possibility that Chuck might not be okay, and Derek refuses to do that.

Instead, he hunkers down next to him, pulling off his shirt in preparation for using it for bandages as he tries to get a closer look at Chuck's injuries.

"Idiot."

[theyoungperish]

They find a sort of rhythm fighting off the horde. Hit hard, move fast, don't dwell in one spot so they don't have time to swarm. Peggy's gone, but she's fast, she's fine, she can take care of herself. Chuck doesn't waste time thinking about her, not when he's got Derek fighting by him. Derek, who has to live, who has to.

Somehow though, they get separated. Not far -- Chuck can see him, head and shoulders above the rest a couple feet away, and that's good. As long as they keep fighting, they'll be fine. It's all he can tell himself, all he has to hold onto. There's got to be a break in the ranks, and just enough space for them to get out and move. They just have to find it, to run and keep running, on and on.

There is no safety in the arena, but it will be better than the mercy of thoughtless beings.

Except one slams into him, bites into his shoulder, ragged and broken teeth digging in deep, and Chuck yelps even as he shoves his makeshift spear into the zombie's eye socket. It thrashes and dies, but even as he hurriedly shoves it away Chuck can feel others grab at him. It's a struggle, pain lancing up through him even as he strikes zombies down one after another. It's not enough, he goes crashing down, head smacking the ground hard enough to daze, and that brief second is his end.

Teeth find purchase, deep into his thigh, at his ribs, nails scrabbling at the forearm he throws up to protect his throat. It can't be more than a minute before Derek pulls him out, Chuck fighting them off himself with a frustrated and pained yell. But it is enough.

By the time Derek stops, Chuck already knows exactly what this means for the both of them. The bite at his ribs is sluggishly weeping blood, the one at his shoulder deeper and messier. But he's pretty sure the chunk taken out of his leg nicked something. It won't stop bleeding, even though he tried, cursing along the way. Even now, back against a tree, Chuck slots an uneven grin Derek's way. It's wild, more baring of teeth than anything, but fucking hell he knows.

"Can't blame me this time." He knows Derek can, and will, for the time he has left.

Day 1 - Peggy, Anna, Harley at the power plant

[impaledqueen]

Tracking a human isn't much harder than tracking an animal. Sometimes humans are smart enough to cover their tracks, but usually, it doesn't occur to them to, and they're big enough to leave lots of marks of their presence. Peggy finds human tracks dangerously close to her animal traps, and she has a sneaking suspicion that someone has been stealing the animals she catches in those traps. They can't have someone taking their food. That person (and anyone else who Peggy comes across, really) must die.

So she finds some underbrush near her traps and sets a tripping branch hidden in there. She hides perched in a branch over the site, waiting for someone to come across it, and she keeps her knife (made from the claw of another tribute she killed) tight in her hand.

[rediscover]

Despite her injuries--despite the hole in her left shoulder where the rusted iron rod went clean through, despite the fact that she can't really feel her fingers--Anna has been doing okay. She made it off the boat, straggled to the shore, and now she's making a brave attempt to navigate the power plant.

Being from a time when radioactivity wasn't common knowledge, she's vaguely unnerved by all the weird growths and the vague unsettling hum in the background, but not enough to be truly scared. At this point, she's more worried about the other Tributes.

She's pleased that they've all been dressed in sensible clothes this time--clothes meant for moving in, clothes that breathe and stretch and cover all of their body parts. Despite that the whole left shoulder of her suit is soaked in blood, she still seems to be moving pretty well, hair braided back away from her face and a wild look on her face.

And while she has no weapons to speak of, and very little advantage, she has learned one thing: someone else knows how to trap. And those traps are working. So Anna has been eating decently. And in between eating decently, she's been sneaking back around to see if she can't nab another meal off whoever it is setting the traps. She never expects that this other Tribute might have set a trap for her.

Her foot catches a branch as she's sneaking alongside a brushpile, and Anna lets out a shriek that echoes in an unearthly manner as she realizes what's happened. She's caught.

Day 4 | Temple, Peggy and Tabris

[clotting]

Temple doesn't know how she's survived so long. She finds herself in the maze in a sort of fever state, delirious and hungry and exhausted, with her pretty face made ghoulish by the dark circles under her eyes and the wild Gorgon hair that's framing her face.

She watched her Tributes die on the first day and all she could think was at least that wasn't me. She limps her way in circles in the labyrinth, licking at her lips and gazing blindly at walls as if they'll open and at least provide her with something to drink. The thought of downing her can of acid and ending it fast occurs to her, but Temple Drake wants to live. She always wants to live.

At least that wasn't me.

She clutches her machete (she lost the bow long ago) with both hands, without skill or even consciousness but with a sort of tenacity that can usually only be found in the knuckles of the dead.

"Who's there?" She doesn't even try to make her voice sound strong, and all the fragmentation of fear splits her syllables into scratchy chirps.

[allyorfoe]

Tabris is prepared for anything when she rounds the corner. Her weapon isn't much, a hammer she picked up, not nearly the size of the one she wielded last arena, but she knows well enough how to make it deadly. She's ready to fight when she sees the other person, but then grinds to a halt at the sight of Temple. She's never spoken to Temple, but she's seen her around, heard a bit. Enough to know that the woman was no threat to her. Enough to know that she could permanently die if Tabris tried anything.

And enough to know that there was a child waiting for her in the Capitol.

So, Tabris relaxes her stance, and scowls at the other woman.

"Oh, it's you." There's a small pause as she tries to place Temple. She was working with the woman that wouldn't leave Bayard alone. Swann. "District 6--No, shit, that's the...the wheelie things." She paused a looking, looking aside. "...District 8! Yeah. Shit, you're their only mentor, too, aren't you." It wasn't a threat, but an observation--At least District 10 had mentors to spare.

Day 1 | D10 on a Boat

[pimpcanes]

Tom's got a sword.

He also has a slew of undesirables that he's supposed to be working with to get this lifeboat in the water, but there's only so much that can be done about that. Co-operation doesn't seem to be a strong suit for anyone here, but Tom hopes that all these women can at least be practical and get the damned thing in the water before they turn on each other (or, more likely, him).

With the sword tucked through a makeshift loop in his thermal clothing (he's compromised the integrity of his suit for the sake of the use of his hands, and thus he considers himself a winner), he takes the position near the lifeboat where his back is covered and starts to hoist the massive thing in the water. It's heavy, and he's still not fully recovered from his Arena, and he certainly can't do it alone.

"Any day now, lasses!"

[allyorfoe]

She moves like a woman in a dream, slowly, not quite seeing what's around her. Like she doesn't quite believe any of this is real. That said, at least she doesn't seem to be particularly antagonistic towards Tom as she wanders over. When he starts to hoist, she simply watches, and only after a moment of thought does she begin to help.

"Is this a teamwork arena? Are we winning in districts...?" She pondered, even as she moves to help lift it. It's more of a struggle than it should have been--While Tabris has spent a lifetime honing her fighting skills, and that hasn't disappeared, she's also spent the last month or so doing very little training. "Because if that's the case, we're all doomed right now. Just saying."

day 1; the batter & torin

[expurge]

It's not what he was expecting for his first venture into the arena - a practice arena, a test for him to prove his worth before the real event would begin - but the Batter doesn't let that get him down in the slightest. He has an objective set before him and he wasn't about to fail, not before he could show his true strength and everything he was capable of.

There's a mad rush for the lifeboats, from what he can see, their only saving grace in a sudden time of need, but he'll take his time. There's little point in wasting his energy now, not with the biting cold and a long trek ahead. Exhausting himself now would only hinder him in the long run.

He does elbow someone else along the way, but he pays them no mind. Getting off the sinking ship is the first priority and everyone else can just get out of his way.

[bravelyplucked]

"The only way we're getting out of this is if we work together." Torin's also rushing to get to the District 2 life boat, albeit slower than the Batter. He's not moving as fast as he did in his prime, and he's already starting off with a handicap...but at least being elbowed in his bad arm doesn't bother him much. And making an alliance with one of "his" Tributes in this case makes sense.

Day 4: Closed to Peggy

[seestheman]

Clara hasn't been trying to survive. It's not that she has a death wish, but Clara knows that there's no way she's going to win this Arena in a way that would be satisfying to the people of the Capitol and she doesn't want to be that woman who won by a stupid fluke twice. And, sure, there's the possibility that if she dies in here, the Capitol won't bring her back, but that's a risk she's willing to take.

When Peggy comes across her, she's worse for the wear in the maze, resting against the branches of a wall with a variety of cuts and scrapes covering her body and something in her right hand is jammed from trying to fight back against the zombie like duplicate of Alex that she came across in the recreation of her (their, really, which she tries not to focus on) Arena, so that every time she moves her middle or pointer finger they either don't move or move too much, not to mention the unpleasant clicking that comes from them. She has the book from the bookstore in the recreation of the Arena she won in her lap, choosing just to keep rereading the earlier chapters in it so she can try to imagine for a little bit that her life hasn't spiraled into...well, whatever it is now.

She looks up at the sound of her co-worker's footsteps, not even bothering to be on her guard. "Well, it's nice to know that someone else from Ten made it this far." It makes her feel better about what she's going to ask.

[impaledqueen]

Months ago, Peggy would have been surprised by the lack of guardedness and dismissed it as stupidity, but now, she realizes that the offworlders take full advantage of resurrection by passively resisting the Games. Clara is one of the man who does this.

Peggy's a sight. She's been in a lot of fights, and her clothes and hair are stiff and matted with blood. She's used clothes she found in the mall as makeshift bandages and she carries a morning star in one hand and a makeshift knife in the other, one that Clara might be able to see is made from the claw of the dragon Iskierka.

"I'm not sure if any of our Tributes have been so lucky," Peggy says as she approaches slowly. This encounter will have to end with Clara's death, but if Clara doesn't want to start this off with death, Peggy's ready to give her a chance to chat.