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

[drpsychosomatic]

John watched Sherlock's face, obvious concern swimming behind the careful determination in his eyes. He'd known the indecipherable nature of the predicament they found themselves in had been preying on the detective's mind from before he'd been brought to join him- that wasn't hard to deduce- but the rage boiling under the surface reminded John all too clearly of Sherlock's reaction to having seen the impossible during the H.O.U.N.D. case. Living so constantly with events that defied reason must be eating away at him.

"All right," he said, carefully. "I'm not saying there's anything altruistic going on here, I just mean that it seems like anything planted here is to make watching the games more interesting- and like you said, they want to watch us kill each other. If you think this is all useless, then let's go somewhere else."

[alldeduction]

"I think these," He said, with a wave at the infuriating machines, "are useless. We'll try next door. There has to be something in this god forsaken place."

[drpsychosomatic]

He nodded. "Next door it is, then. I don't suppose you've ever been to Disneyland?"

He blinked blearily as he stepped back outside into the light of the main street, checking to see if there was anyone out and about before giving Sherlock the all clear.

"Not that I think any foodstuffs left in a restaurant would be good after all these years. At least you've got more proof of your time-travel theory..."

[alldeduction]

Coins still tinkling in his pocket, Sherlock climbed out into the street beside him, blinking in unison.

"Not time-travel. Divergent evolutionary paths already dismissed that theory," He muttered as he straightened himself out, the red torn cape still wrapped around his arm. "And not Disneyland. DisneyWorld. Similar layout but not identical."

[drpsychosomatic]

"All right. Not time travel, then."

He glanced over towards the figure of Javert, still sitting in the doorway of the building opposite, but looking a lot more slumped than looked comfortable- and for a moment considered going over to check on him- but there was still nothing he could do for the man until they at least found some water. He nodded in his direction and turned back to the next doorway down the street.

"This one's mine then. Hold on."

He took a deep breath and slammed himself against the weakened boards, half staggering inside as the wood gave way.

[alldeduction]

The spent the next twenty minutes searching through the building but found absolutely nothing of use, save a few dusky glass jars that they took aside for water. Sherlock was growing increasingly bored with scavenging (he never did have a very deep sense of self preservation) and was growing progressively less useful and more annoying. Finally with a muttered growl he gave up and fled back into the street, only to find that their charge had disappeared.