Arena 06 - Happy

[gamemakers]

The last few hours before the Arena have a strangely stifled quality, as if half the people they interact with are trying very hard not to laugh. Maybe it's the costumes, the fancy gowns and velvet tunics, the short capes. Or maybe it's their destination.

The round courtyard to which the tubes bring them could not be more different from the last arena. Though outside the circle of pedestals, disrepair and neglect has taken over the roads and buildings, the garden inside the circle could not be more perfectly sculpted. Every hedge is a smooth, rounded shape. Flowers bloom brightly in concentric circles of insane color. The Cornucopia sits gleaming and golden, and just in front of its mouth, a bronze statue of a man and a mouse stands amid the heap of supplies.

20, shouts the voice from the sky.

Aside from it, there is a hush. No flies in the flowers, no wind in the trees. It is a cool day, with the comfortable chill of early spring and noon's short shadows.

19 - 18 - 17

Outside the circle, behind the tributes on the northern side, a castle looms. Through its wide gate, devastation everywhere, but it, itself, is shining clean, glowing pink and blue. Opaque windows look down from the heights of it, as uncaring as every hidden camera the veterans know is there.

12 - 11

Music starts as the countdown nears the bottom, a whimsical, dramatic tune.

3

2

1

And with the final note, the gong rang out, and a firework shot into the sky from the castle's peak, bright enough to burst redly across the sky above them all. Let the Games begin.



((OOC NOTES: IF YOUR CHARACTER HAS POWERS THE CAPITOL HAS NERFED, make sure you are on this list.

And everyone really should review the arena post. Because there's a little more to play with than you might think.

And please remember to add your character's tag to each post they're in.))

Comments

[lassoftruthiness]

For now Diana ignored the fact that they put her in a skirt (at least the boots were flats) and only bothered to take the cape off so she could wrap it around her forearm. Without her bracers her habit of using her wrist to block was more of a hindrance and the fabric provided some semblance of protection. She took in the Cornucopia and decided what she would be going for, then in the time remaining looked over the Tributes for familiar faces.

There were the ones she expected, Bruce (in pink and oh how she wished this were a happier time so she could better appreciate the sight), Babs, Blaine and so many others...and. Oh Hera. Harley Quinn.

Diana only had a split second to think, why?, before the gong sounded and she was off.

[revvinguptheharley]

In the middle of the chaos of bodies throwing themselves at items and frantically struggling for random bits of gear a vision of madness in yellow whirled about like a shimmering bit of sunlight on the reflection of a pond. Harley Quinn seemed to be adjusting to her long skirt easily and was using it to add some extra distraction to her long legged kicks and playful dancing around people who were trying to focus on the cans of food and water on the ground.

"Come on guys! Let's give em a show! This is my big debut!" She called to the tributes who were just trying to get out of her way while she insisted on throwing herself in it.

[lassoftruthiness]

Diana eyed the supplies longingly, but Harley was a more important concern so she abruptly changed her route, moving to cut Harley off from...wherever she was trying to go.

[revvinguptheharley]

In Harley's state she didn't see faces so much as figures and when a body came within striking distance she obliged by whipping one of her legs out to strike at the person. If she had any idea just who she was taking a swing at she might have thought twice.

Or...maybe not. She was Harley Quinn after all.

[lassoftruthiness]

Diana gritted her teeth and brought up her arms, both to block and to grab Harley's leg, keep her at least somewhat immobilized. "Harley," she said, remembering her lack of powers and hoping she could keep Harley from realizing they were gone. "I don't think you really want to do this."

[revvinguptheharley]

Harley was jolted by the sudden stop and she felt the world still spinning under her foot that was planted on the ground.

Yanking her foot free she spun around once more in the opposite direction and planted both feet on the ground.

"Wondy? Is that you? Or is that you? Or that one?" Apparently Harley was still a little dizzy from her flashy attacks because she was pointing to the right of where Diana actually stood.

[lassoftruthiness]

Diana sighed. This was not how she'd expected her first encounter in the Arena to go. It was like she'd never left own world. "I'm me, Harley," she said, snapping her fingers in front of Harley's face. At least she didn't appear to be interested in attacking her upon recognition. "And you should get out of here."

Not terribly likely to happen, but she has to try.

[revvinguptheharley]

Harley blinked a few more times and shook her head in an animated dramatic effort to clear her vision.

"Get out of here? But I just got started! I gotta win an immunity item and set up some kind of alliances so I can backstab people!" She protested glancing over her shoulder at everyone having fun without her.

[lassoftruthiness]

Diana resisted the urge to point out there was no immunity item. "I'm serious, Harley, the smartest thing you can do right now is leave this place, find somewhere to make camp. There will be plenty of time for alliances later."

She can only hope to minimize the damage Harley could cause, and the Cornucopia is enough of a bloodbath already. Unless...a thought occurred to her. "...Would you like to ally with me?"

[revvinguptheharley]

Harley cocked an eyebrow suspiciously. "Wait...you? Princess of the amazons? And me the daffy dame of delirium? Holy crossover!" She wasn't sure how she felt about that. It seemed unnatural on a number of levels.

"I dunno, do you even know how to have fun? I mean...look at that!" She gestured with a sweeping arm at the tributes fighting and scrambling.

"When you see that, what do you want to do?"

[doesnotsew]

Like many of the tributes, Asha's clothes were unfamiliar to her; unlike most, though, it was because they were a bizarre style she'd never seen before, not even among the ladies in the south or east. She didn't have time to spend on picking at the clothes, not yet, not when she saw the arena she'd be fighting in and her opponents for the first time.

Only one could leave alive, and she was determined to be that one. After all, she had unfinished business to take care of back home.

They didn't leave her her weapon, but she could see the supplies scattered about in the center of the circle, and when the gong rang she took off running to grab what she could and make her stand.

[shambler]

Another Tribute came lurching up around the Cornucupia's mouth.

For a moment it looked like he was going to go for the same supplies she was, his hands outstretched, blackened fingers grasping like he wanted to call dibs. Maybe he was hurt already, because he was shuffling along, almost borderline limping and it was obvious that he wouldn't reach it first.

R wasn't going for the supplies. He tripped over one bag, stumbled his toe against another, and kept going, up until he was close enough to grab at the other Tribute's clothes and try to drag her closer.

[doesnotsew]

She was used to battle situations, used to having to pay attention to everyone in the fray. It was more difficult here, where her crew wasn't there fighting with her, but she could handle this one all on her own-- already injured, it seemed, something like a headwound. She kept going towards the supplies, wanting to arm herself first, but if she had a free second afterwards she might put him out of his misery.

But the stumbling in the corner of her eye made her look again, as he ignored the materials right in front of him. She half-turned, frowning; why follow her for a more difficult fight? A last stand in an impossible battle, for honor? He'd be disappointed.

She turned to continue, but his fingers caught her ridiculous outfit and she almost lost her balance, tipping forward. She snarled, bunching the skirt in her one hand to try to regain it while snapping her other arm out to try and backhand him off.

[shambler]

For a split second R thought it was over, he had this, he could rip into her, dive in her brains, and wander off somewhere to take another look at who she was because R was the kind of zombie who liked take-out with his prime cuts.

The girl had other ideas. His hand tore a long swath through her lavender skirt as they tried to play Tug-of-War over it. Next thing he knew, R got a backhand to the face, hard enough to make his teeth rattle. Between having a slippery grip on her skirt and getting nailed in the face, R finally lost his hold, kicked back a few steps. Instead of blood, there was a slight splatter of black oil - the ooze he had in place of blood - and he couldn't tell if she broke her skin on his teeth or lucked out. All he knows is while his head was still spinning, he wanted to make another pass. So he did.

R lunged again for the other Tribute, taking the frontal approach again like a broken record, choking out a gurgling howl.

[doesnotsew]

She heard the rip in her skirt and felt the impact on the back of her hand, red and smarting but not bleeding. It was enough to shake him off, but the strength he had left was surprising, based on what his injuries looked like. She glanced down at her hand as she shook off his blood-- no, not blood, something too dark for it.

"What are you?" she wondered out loud, the question equal parts disgust and curiosity. She'd never heard of a creature like this, not Stannis' wrights or her uncle's monsters, that bled black. But he lunged at her again-- was he stupid, or was there something else at work? He was predictable, but she grounded herself and went low, surging forward herself around his middle, trying to knock him down.

[shambler]

R groaned out something that would've been words any other time. Maybe a "hi, how're you doing" if he was feeling particularly smooth. Or even just a "sorry" before he tried to go for her jugular.

Today it was just a typical zombie groan. Sometimes R hated his terrible vocabulary.

The tackle hit him square in the chest, the two of them going down in a heap with the zombie at the bottom. He sprawled out on his back, but was recovering faster than a human would've. Hard to get the wind knocked out when your lungs were retired. R grabbed at her short hair, trying to tangle his fingers into it, rake her scalp. His blackened lips peeled back over his teeth as he snapped at her throat, so close R could almost taste that pulse even from here.

Aside from trying to eat her, he made no attempts to defend himself.

[doesnotsew]

That was... not an answer, and she was content with assuming it was all he was capable of doing, something too far gone from a human to answer properly. She landed heavily and ready, though it didn't give her much benefit, as he was responding much faster than she was expecting; she wasn't even able to get a blow in before he was clawing at her hair. She kept it short for exactly this reason, so no one could have any better hold on her than they would on any man-- but her focus was on keeping his mouth, diseased and damaged, away from her throat. She had her hands planted heavily at his own, pushing down to keep her neck up and back-- and, of course, waiting for the moment where his strength would die away from lack of air.

Do whatever you need to to him, just don't get him in the head? :3a

[shambler]

She could be waiting awhile for that...as in she'd probably die of exposure or dehydration before he started asphyxiating.

They were stuck at a stand still. R lost his hold on her hair, her neck was out of reach and even though he strained against her, he still couldn't get his fingers around her throat. R's colorless eyes locked on hers, staring up at the other Tribute, her head a silhouette against the sky. He continued to gurgle, almost plaintively, feeling downright teased because the best part of her was only inches away. His eyes went to her forehead. So close and he still couldn't even get a nip in. Talk about cruel.

If he was smart or bothered at all with tactics, he would've tried to buck her off, try to use his legs. Abuse his height. Instead R kept pushing back with his arms, his mouth dropping open as he snapped at her uselessly, more for something to do and to vent some steam. She was pretty strong for a human, he was startled to admit.

[lassoftruthiness]

Diana left the clash with Harley when she could do so without--or at least with less than necessary--guilt, turning back to the Cornucopia to grab whatever she could reach first. She had debated with herself briefly about fighting other Tributes for the supplies, but she would be of little help to anyone if she didn't make an attempt at her own survival.

So when she saw the other woman darting towards the same bag she was aiming for, Diana veered and ducked slightly, aiming to knock the woman down with her shoulder.

[doesnotsew]

She was aware of the movement all around her-- she had to be, to make sure she didn't get an ax in the back-- and instinct drew her attention to the change of course, twisting to ground herself and avoid the brunt of the force. Years of fighting on moving ship decks helped her regain her balance quickly, lashing out at the other woman with a kick. On some level, it was nice to see another woman fighting, even if only one of them could come out of this; still, she didn't let that distract her, intent on reaching the bag.

[lassoftruthiness]

Diana blocked the kick with her cloth covered arm, flinching slightly as she was forcibly reminded that she had no powers. But she didn't have to dwell on that, so she turned the block into an attempt to grab, to yank the other woman off balance.

[doesnotsew]

She recognized the instinct in the block, at least, as the movements of someone used to wearing a shield; at least she found herself against a fighter, and not someone pulled in at random. The hands too quickly turned in, and she swung out with her arm in retaliation even as she pitched forward, keeping her center of gravity low to the ground so she could clamber back up as quickly as possible.

[lassoftruthiness]

She didn't want to start out the Arena with a full-on fight, to avoid being entertaining if nothing else, so while the other woman hit the ground Diana turned back to the Cornucopia and reached out to grab the nearest bag.

[doesnotsew]

"No you don't!"

She wanted that bag, and she would be taking it; if this woman thought she would be put out of commission by a little fall, so much the pity for her. She kicked out, low to trip the woman up, before she had even gotten entirely to her feet.

[lassoftruthiness]

Diana was expecting an outright attack when she heard the shout, not a kick, and so she stumbled, her arms brought up in a defensive move useless. She rolled sideways and into a crouch almost before she felt her palms smack into the dirt, but still lost precious seconds with the fall. If the woman waited for Diana to regain her footing so they could fight properly, then Diana still had a chance to grab the bag first.

If the woman instead went straight for the supplies, Diana wasn't sure what she would do, because essentially stealing supplies from a fellow Tribute when Diana didn't even intend to win felt counterproductive to her goals.