The Gamemakers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thearena2013-03-16 04:55 pm
gamemakers) wrote in thearena2013-03-16 04:55 pm
Entry tags:
- ! arena 06,
- cassandra marko,
- clint barton,
- harley quinn,
- matthew "punchy" o'connor,
- sigma klim,
- wesker,
- wyatt earp,
- ✘ adel-makim-zalur,
- ✘ alpha,
- ✘ anna morasca,
- ✘ asha greyjoy,
- ✘ atticus bell,
- ✘ barbara gordon,
- ✘ blaine anderson,
- ✘ bruce wayne,
- ✘ chris redfield,
- ✘ daniel jackson,
- ✘ diana prince,
- ✘ donatello,
- ✘ dr. grey,
- ✘ dr. holiday,
- ✘ draco malfoy,
- ✘ eliot spencer,
- ✘ enjolras,
- ✘ eponine thenardier,
- ✘ gabriel,
- ✘ gaius,
- ✘ gavroche,
- ✘ howard bassem,
- ✘ ian chesterton,
- ✘ javert,
- ✘ jim kirk,
- ✘ john watson,
- ✘ karis needleteeth,
- ✘ katurian katurian,
- ✘ lady,
- ✘ little rock,
- ✘ maximus,
- ✘ morrigan,
- ✘ neffa a reyeth,
- ✘ pruna,
- ✘ r,
- ✘ rictor,
- ✘ shatterstar,
- ✘ sherlock holmes (bbc),
- ✘ sokka,
- ✘ some ovmennet,
- ✘ tohru adachi,
- ✘ topher brink
Arena 06 - Happy
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.
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.
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.
Music starts as the countdown nears the bottom, a whimsical, dramatic tune.
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.))
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
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.))
Re: Daniel Jackson | Stargate SG-1 (OPEN!)
And there went the Tribute's shirt, a regular Captain Kirk. Oh geez, the Tribute was pretty ripped. Daniel felt distinctly underwhelming next to him, and certainly the geek that Feretti and Kawalsky and even Jack had thought he was. Daniel tried not to stare. He failed miserably. The Tribute probably had a rock hard six-pack, biceps of steel, and was two seconds away from getting a sponsor to send him a gift of oil just to lather his pecs up. Daniel, somewhat self-consciously, tucked some of his bangs behind an ear and pushed his glasses back up his nose.
Maybe there was hope. Admittedly, the other man looked and sounded like he wasn't capable of it, but if he thought he could, Daniel wouldn't look this gift horse in the mouth. If they could shut off all the cameras- Daniel's face lit up, just for a moment, then seemed to shutter. Eva had said something about cameras. Even now, the Baron's words came drifting back, something about privacy and how scarce it was for a Tribute.
"I'm thinking there's not a chance in hell," Daniel's eyes drifted back upwards to the sky. Where were these cameras? He couldn't see a single one, which was probably the point. Still, he almost expected at least one or two obvious floating cameras or something, just to drive in the point. "I mean, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. I've been wanting a good piece of paper and pencil since I got here. I guess I'm old fashioned."
The archaeologist jerked his chin, ever so slightly, towards where the hovercraft had vanished, and hoped that the Tribute understood. If he could communicate with him that way, on paper, they could keep things more of a secret from the Capitol, about coordinating his original plan. Or better yet if the other guy knew any other languages besides English. Daniel was all for getting the Capitol's eyes and ears shut down, However...
Daniel hastily went on. "I mean, we could leave messages to the other Tributes. Or to our fans." Okay, that was hamming it up a little to include the audience. "I think I've got an idea how to end this already."
Re: Daniel Jackson | Stargate SG-1 (OPEN!)
It's not even as if he dislikes Daniel, who thus far has proven to be a perfectly decent guy, if a little fixated on the fact that Punchy's missing an eye and bleeding anywhere (seriously, Daniel, it's no big deal). Definitely not someone cool enough for Punchy to hang out with regularly, and with a bit of a 'stuffy teacher' vibe, but a lovely person.
It's just that in the mental movie that is Punchy's life, there is no room for co-stars. Supporting actors, certainly, but Punchy likes to believe himself to be some sort of Van Damme or Sylvester Stallone; teamups are reserved for box office cash-ins with other similarly situated action stars, not up-and-comers.
Almost right on cue, a parachute drops from the sky. It lands and Punchy doesn't even seem to consider the possibility that it might be Daniel's. He grabs it up and opens the container, which holds a can of what looks like spam and the note a hunk of meat for a hunk of meat. Rather than looking at all disturbed by this, Punchy seems pleased and flattered, like both all his time at the gym and his brilliant tactic for fangirls is paying off.
"Guess my sexy body is makin' it rain." He figures it's also worth noting that the Sponsors only have a two minute delay at most to showering their favorites with gifts. Credit card transactions must be lightning fast, and it also means that this show is being broadcast practically in real-time. That means less time to edit away the parts the Capitol doesn't want the audience to see.
Re: Daniel Jackson | Stargate SG-1 (OPEN!)
He lifted his eyebrows, exaggerated and meaningfully, he hoped, trying to get Punchy to shut up. Why couldn't this be Jack? At least Jack could read him like a book practically. Well, sometimes. It was getting downright scary, now that he thought about. He could just say Jack's name, give him any number of looks, and Jack would pick up (most of the time) what he had in mind just from that. It saved a lot of trouble. And time. "Maybe you should respect the Capitol's property before they get upset. It's like throwing a rock at someone's window, you just had the good graces to say so first! Let's play nice, okay?"
And how to get Punchy to understand that Daniel was actually all for his plan. But they needed to communicate in a way that the Capitol wouldn't read. Daniel sat back, watching as Punchy landed his first vote of audience approval. All it had taken was baring his very impressive guns. That...probably wasn't going to happen on Daniel's end. He counted himself as not exactly frail or overly muscled, personally, but next to Punchy, Daniel just wasn't very impressive.
"Congrats," Daniel said dryly. An idea struck him. He only had to write a few words and hope Punchy got it. "Here, give me your hand."
I am so sorry for this tag and its contents.
As someone with an extremely keen handle on the art of reading others, Punchy, of course, immediately assumes Daniel is a hundred percent serious and advocating being respectful to their evil overlords. This sets off a spew of indignant nonsense. "Dawg, I don't got to play nice with axed-up jackwagons who spit a bunch of homies into La Casa de Killaz to get on analog! Shit like that's what's jacked about peeps today and it's rocking a serious whole in my upper ozone, a'ight?"
Then, under his breath, "damn The Man."
He frowns and tries to jam his hands into his pockets, but this outfit doesn't really have any, so he just slaps his thighs and scratches at the wound on his arm. He bites the bullet on the face wound and frowns, then hands the food over to Daniel. Whatever, he doesn't need it, he ain't even hungry; he just wanted to see if it would work. Besides, he's used to subsisting off a nutrition-free diet of Sour Brite Crawlers and Cheetos Puffcorns, so how much worse can starvation be?
Finally he holds his hand out. "No homo, right?"
no subject
He frowned at him, eyebrows coming together. Excuse me? Daniel took the food anyway, digging in, then after a moment, saved half for later. Chances were, the sponsors weren't going to throw gifts at him like they might to the other guy. "Believe me. You're not my type."
Daniel cradled other man's's hands in his, one hand nestled under the other. And keeping the Tribute's hand over his, hiding the fingers of his right hand from view, Daniel began to trace letters into the underside of the Tribute's palm with a forefinger. The letters were clearly written, slow enough that even the Tribute should read it, and pressed into the skin of his palm. S.H.U.T..... U.P. he spelled out.
"I'll pretend I understood a word of that. Sure you didn't sprain something on your fall?" Daniel pretended to look in concern at his hand. C.A.M.E.R.A, He spelled out. "My name is Daniel by the way. Since you saved my life and all, and it's better than calling you 'hey-you' or something."
no subject
He's still sort of sulking as Daniel starts spelling on his hand. Surely Daniel doesn't expect him to answer questions about his health while trying to spell, does he? That's just too much multitasking for one person. As such, he doesn't answer the question about spraining anything.
"Cameras don't pick up on sou- ohhhhhh." That only took him a while. Cameras, microphones, those very things he wants to turn off could be used against them. Duh. He totally knew that. "I'm Punchy. That's my legit name. Seriously."
This is, of course, an utter lie, but Punchy doesn't look even remotely ashamed to commit to it.
no subject
Daniel winced before he could help it. Did Punchy have this aversion towards thinking before he spoke? It would explain a lot if he did! Punchy - and really, that was his name? His parents had a sense of humor or maybe a sixth sense. He doubted it. No parent was that cruel. Daniel didn't want to punch him. What he did want to do was give into the urge to bury his own face in his hands. He'd never met anyone before who took so long to get with the rest of the class. Jack would probably take that as a challenge, but then again, Daniel was pretty sure that at least with Jack, it was all an act.
His finger traced out on his palm: P.L.A.N.....
Daniel took a moment to tear off a strip from his own cape, wrapped around his arm, then pretended to bandage the other man's wrist, mostly so that he didn't start raising eyebrows at only holding his hand. He wrote, more quickly on his skin. P.E.A.C.E... S.I.T.D.O.W.N.
Daniel had to free his hand. He was out of time to write, but he wasn't so sure if Punchy would get where he was leading with the sit down idea. Daniel was finding you couldn't be too sure with him. He said, very slowly and heavily, hoping Punchy got it; "So let's not play Games if we can help it."
no subject
But he holds his hand out still and lets Daniel continue with the communicating. He feels as if he's humoring Daniel, more than anything. Let the geeky guy with the allergies pretend he's the smart one and meanwhile, Punchy will try and piece together how he's going to save them all and lead a glorious revolution by hacking a boombox.
Punchy's view of the world is more than a little distorted.
"Nah, dawg, I don't need help with that, it's just a pint of blood. No biggie. It'll grow back once I pound down some vitamin C."
He raises his eyebrows at Daniel. Are you serious? Then he takes Daniel's hand back.
M.E.G.A.P.H.O.N.E.
Then, a comma, and M.U.S.I.C. He jerks his head towards Tomorrowland, which turns out to be a bad idea, because the blood loss has made him lightheaded. He sways to the side and grabs Daniel's shoulder to steady himself before he even realizes he's doing it. He digs his hand back into his shirt and pulls the puppet out again, addressing it rather than Daniel. "We might need some downtime, though."
no subject
"I'd like some," he muttered under his breath. So maybe Punchy meant to drown out the Capitol's ears with music while they went around talking to any tributes that would listen. Daniel drew back his hand the moment he was done, but not before giving an answering squeeze, to show that he understood. "I'm fine, just bruised. Look, I might not be that kind of doctor, but all the vitamin C in the world isn't going to help you, you need medical atten-"
He trailed off at the beeping sound that seemed to come from somewhere and behind. Daniel turned in time to catch the parachute coming down with his face.
Luckily for him, it only bumped gently into his nose, the chute itself starting to fold over his head. He pulled it off, and twisted off the large cap. His name had been written on the lid. Inside, was a strange gel and packets of what he was hoping were sterile bandages stuffed alongside what he was also going to hope was medicine. The note inside had been laminated. Daniel pulled it out. He unfolded it. Written in a flowery script that came from a sparkling purple pen where the words, For you and your newfound "friend", you make such a cute couple! <3
Daniel stared at it for a moment. Then he gave a very awkward cough. Oh, this wasn't off to a good start, but at least he knew that he had at least one sponsor. Quickly, he started to fold the letter away before Punchy could get a good look at it.
"I think someone's sent me some medicine."
no subject
Punchy's about to continue to dramatically stiff-upper-lip through his injury when another container comes down, this one for Daniel. Punchy's actually a little surprised. His ego doesn't allow much room for acknowledging that other people can have fans too. He hopes that whatever Sponsor is out there knows the grievous blow they've dealt to his self-esteem here.
He straightens up again and tries to steady himself, swaying against slightly but keeping his footing. He makes the puppet nod at himself, as if approving of the effort.
"You can keep it. You got a...thing." He gestures to a slight scrape on Daniel's elbow. Clearly as pressing an issue. He's not going to lower himself to using some other homie's medicine, especially after he already halfway slumped on them like a sack of wangsta potatoes. He doesn't even seem to take much interest in the note.
"I gotta get my ass to Tomorrowland. My best hours is at night. Can't get jack shit done once the sun comes out." And if anything requires an all-nighter, it's breaking your way out of an insane murder game.
no subject
And with that, Daniel practically pushed the canister into Punchy's hands, jaw set. This wasn't the time for being polite or for Punchy to try and "walk off" that injury. If they were to get the plan going, both of them needed to be in as good a shape as possible.
"It might be safer for you that way; less chance of Tributes out at night." The fact that Punchy was serious about needing to rush over to Tomorrowland gave the entire thing a surreal quality. "I'm going to see about finding other Tributes, seeing if any will listen while you do that."
no subject
"Good luck, dawg. Make the OG's proud." He flashes a gang sign at Daniel and sets off, limping only slightly from his tumble earlier.