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.

20

19

18

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.

8

7

6

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.

3

2

1

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

[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.