The Signless doesn't recognize the outfit they've put him in, except to note that it's in his blasphemous red shade so someone must know what they're doing. As the podium lifts, he steels himself for something like another Disneyland -- but this is not that. This is not that remotely. They must have really listened in the interviews when so many people named the sweets and desserts as one of their favorite parts of Capitol life.
7. 6. 5.
The downside is he has no idea how to approach this sort of setting. It's too -- he almost gives a wry laugh as the countdown starts -- alien. He tries to use these last seconds to plan, and gets as far as 'get away from the Cornucopia as quickly as possible' before the stinging starts.
4. 3. 2.
He remembers being bitten by something that made his body burn like this, when he was still a young troll of barely four sweeps living in the vast deserts of the Alternian wild. He'd spent days in a cave, unable to move, and his mother had said he was lucky. He doesn't have that luxury this time.
1.
He's free, and he knows exactly where he's going -- in the opposite direction of the brightly striped Cornucopia. In this state even if he wanted to enter the bloodbath there would be no way he'd survive.
It's slower going than he'd like, though. He's small, and though he's blocky he's hardly a paragon of physical perfection, so the poison works its way into him easily. He doesn't get much more than forty feet away before he's in too much pain and his legs are twitching too much for him to do more than stagger in an awful meandering line. Blood drips down his chin from where he's bitten his lip so hard it's begun to bleed, because crying out and drawing attention to himself like this would be a death sentence.
The Signless
7. 6. 5.
The downside is he has no idea how to approach this sort of setting. It's too -- he almost gives a wry laugh as the countdown starts -- alien. He tries to use these last seconds to plan, and gets as far as 'get away from the Cornucopia as quickly as possible' before the stinging starts.
4. 3. 2.
He remembers being bitten by something that made his body burn like this, when he was still a young troll of barely four sweeps living in the vast deserts of the Alternian wild. He'd spent days in a cave, unable to move, and his mother had said he was lucky. He doesn't have that luxury this time.
1.
He's free, and he knows exactly where he's going -- in the opposite direction of the brightly striped Cornucopia. In this state even if he wanted to enter the bloodbath there would be no way he'd survive.
It's slower going than he'd like, though. He's small, and though he's blocky he's hardly a paragon of physical perfection, so the poison works its way into him easily. He doesn't get much more than forty feet away before he's in too much pain and his legs are twitching too much for him to do more than stagger in an awful meandering line. Blood drips down his chin from where he's bitten his lip so hard it's begun to bleed, because crying out and drawing attention to himself like this would be a death sentence.