Arena 15: In The Eye Of The Capitol

[etcircenses]

For the majority of you, this has become a familiar morning routine. Escorts come to pick up their Tributes and Stylists quickly see to setting them up with the bland and thin grey suits, much to most of their dismay. You'll not hear a word said in complaint though. The staff has gotten the threat to them loud and clear. Only the daring will be willing to offer even a mere "good luck". Peacekeepers quickly collect Tributes to send them off into the launch tubes. If you're from the Districts, it may be one of the last things you ever see.

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What everyone rises up to is not much better a sight. It's a war zone out here in every sense. Those native to Panem will recognize the sight before them, having seen it every year in a propaganda tape. The wreckage of District thirteen. The Cornucopia sits at the very center. Offworlders might recognize some of the weapons there, and if not, then they'll certainly be able to spot some familiar scenes far on the outer edges of the arena, perhaps even a beast or two they know well from their worlds.

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It's muddy and damp and there's plenty of wreckage to cut one's self upon no matter where it is Tributes run. The Cornucopia tempts the Tributes in for its bloodbath. Districter and Offworlder alike, there will only be one winner.

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The gong rings out and a voice announces; “The Arena is now open”. The Tributes are free to make their choice; to run or to fight. The Games have begun.

~~~

By the end of the night, one child from each District will have their face shone up into the sky, the first twelve killed at the Cornucopia. Only twelve to go...

Comments

[timetoshine]

She didn't hesitate. She ran for the cornucopia the minute that countdown ended, dodging through wreckage like it was an obstacle course. But the wreckage wasn't the only obstacle to face, there were people too. Most of them were scattering like cowards, running off into the distance and avoiding their chance at supplies. Not all, though. Not even ten feet from her was the boy from her very own district, keeping pace with her as they closed in on the spoils.

In another life, had these been the Games as they used to be, they'd probably be on the same side to start. One, two and four historically teamed up to form the career pack. But not this time, these weren't normal games and he wasn't going to be her ally.

He veered towards her and she shifted her weight to intersect with him. It was a violent collision that had her tripping past a jagged scrap of metal that sliced into her thigh and hip. It should have scared her, an injury this early, but it just made her mad. So mad, in fact, that when he came back towards her to maybe finish the job, she shoved him with all of her weight...right into a sharp and broken pole jutting out of the ground. The boy was impaled through the chest and Aemila stood there, watching as he choked and spat blood and fell further onto his death bed, eyes dimming a full and slow minute later.

There should have been a sense of success, she'd bested her opponent and won her life, but all she felt was an unpleasant twisting in her gut before the pain seared in her torn muscles and reminded her that she needed to find safer ground. The unease in her core and pain in her leg, she looked around for the closest item to her. There were still plenty of bodies at the cornucopia and plenty of items, but more blood was being spilled there and she didn't stand a chance like this. With the meager thought 'maybe this will help with the sun' she carefully picked up a hat that definitely came from the off-worlder's style and limped off the battlefield.

[jackiewashere]

Maglev had been one of those scattering cowards. With Sansa seen off, she was quick to return back to the most basic levels of self preservation and fear. The District six boy had dared. Maglev wishes he hadn't. She thinks she recognizes his corpse there among the fray and she feels she may be sick. She wishes she hadn't come looking for him. She wishes she hadn't seen what she just had. She wishes she wasn't frozen in the face of a bloodied Career Tribute. Finally, finally, she recovers some of her senses. She turns around and, like a hare from a dog, she runs. It's not a graceful run though. There's mud and broken bits of trees and what looks like buildings. District thirteen, her mind supplies, and for a sharp, sickening moment, she forgets about herself and worries about six. The jagged melt at her ankle sends her toppling to the ground, the mud splashing up and getting caught in her golden hair. She dares a glance back.

[timetoshine]

The arena had hardly started out like she'd planned, but that didn't mean she was just going to roll over and get up. If she didn't like what was happening, it was time to take things into her own hands and change them.

A glance around and that pretty golden hair is like a beacon of opportunity. One down, so many more to go and this one would be easy. She wasn't as fast as she would have been normally with her recent injury, but adrenaline had mostly numbed it and she took off as best she could, no plan in mind.

As the girl looked back, the expression in her face lodged in Aemila's chest but she didn't even falter. The fact the girl had fallen over on her own made this all that much easier, even if she started to get up, Ae was close enough to reach out and grab a handful of the blonde's clothes and yank her down again.

[jackiewashere]

She's scrambling up and to her feet when her clothes are caught and she's yanked backwards. She hits the ground hard, sound and breath leaving her in a yelp. Metal shard prod into her back, some bruising and other sharp. She reaches back in attempt to prop herself up only to find the girl's shoe. She tears her hand away and holds it to her chest, looking up wide-eyed. No, no, she can't go, not yet... She rolls onto her hands and knees, attempting again to get away. She ignores the sharp edges under her fingers, where none are so sharp as the fear in her. Oh god, no...

[timetoshine]

Her mind was blank, years of training and Leo's direction were driving her now and she wouldn't be swayed by anything, not even so pathetic a kill as this.

She caught up with the girl's scrambling easily and latched onto the cloth at her shoulders like handles. One knee pressed into her back to push her down so she could pin the girl down.

But she still didn't have a weapon. There was so much twisted metal around, there had to be something sharp enough to slit a throat. Except that wouldn't be entertaining and that was the point, she was entertainment as much as she was a warrior and she had to be impressive to win favors and put a spotlight on her family.

"You aren't going anywhere, six." She made a grab for something that looked sharp and promising and pressed her other hand hard into the middle of the girl's back between her shoulders. "How should we have fun, huh? Your choice: left or right?"

The words coming from her mouth left a weird taste in her mouth, but the power that came from the situation was intoxicating enough. It was worth it, all of this was worth it.

[jackiewashere]

Her scrambling is stopped when Two's hands are grasping her and that knee comes down on her back. The weight on her spine brings pain, but more than that is the fear. She can't move. She tries to pull, tries to reach back, flailing to knock the other girl off, but she can't. Her swatting is ineffectual for anything but making her look all the more pathetic. "Please! Don't! We don't have to do this!" She pleads, a lie spilling out that she wishes so bad could be true. No Tribute would listen to that. Especially not one from District two. Aemila confirms this, and as she's told there's no escape, Maglev finds herself going all the more still. But it's not resignation. She trembles with the fear of what's to come. Some of the weigh on her lifts as Aemila trades her knee for a hand, reaching around. What Aemila says next chills her to the core. So much for going still; the terror has her trying to scramble again. "No, no!" She cries. The hare's foot presses against her collar.