Oh my love, I know you are the Candy Man

[gamemakers]

Although the mood in the Capitol is...taut, once the Tributes are in the transportation craft, things seem to lighten. The peacekeepers almost seem jovial - as jovial as peacekeepers ever seem. About half the Tributes are checked over and given an injection into their tracking device.

In the underground room, the stylists have all their prep teams running busy, dressing up the tributes in bright costumes, chatting with each other, clearly excited to have so much freedom over what their Tributes are wearing in. Each one is dressed in a personalized costume, elaborate, and entirely soft.

Finally the Tributes are placed on their pedestals and sent on up, all gussied up.

25 - 24 - 23

The light is blinding for a moment, before the candy-colored world around them comes into focus. And it's not just candy-colored - it is actually candy. Some Tributes might be reminded of the game Candy Land, if it was something in their home world. Music plays, scarily cute animals roam, and every thing just looks so gosh-darn happy.

20 - 19 - 18 - 17 - 16

The Cornucopia sits, candy-striped itself, and over-flowing with a generous bounty of food, weapons, and supplies. Even these all reflect the nature of the arena, brightly-colored, and cheerful-looking, just begging to be gathered up.

11- 10 - 9 - 8

They've all been warned not to step off their pedestal early. But as the final number ticks off, those Tributes that had their tracking devices adjusted in the transport suddenly feel a sting starting in their arms. A slightly diluted version of what Ariadne was given the day before is dumped in their veins.

The dilution doesn't help them, of course; it just causes the poison to take effect more slowly.

5 - 4

3

2

1

Go.

The burning is starting for half of them, spreading through their body, lighting their nerves on fire. Within 10 minutes it's effecting their motor skills, causing them to stagger, twitch, to move against their will.

Those who are small fall faster, barely lasting 15 minutes in the bloodbath. The stronger and bigger among them might make it 30 minutes at most.

By the time the bloodbath is over, the Cornucopia is surrounded by corpses. Half of the Tributes have fallen without even a single competitor having to touch them.


[OOC: Don't forget the OOC Arena post, especially those of you running for the Cornucopia. Every Tribute must post to this post. There will be a Cornucopia thread, and anyone else feel free to post as you will. Please add a tag with your character's name.

Those who were poisoned are anyone in group 2. You will have a second post up shortly.]

Comments

I do huehue

[misscabernet]

She was testing her luck. Every instinct in her was screaming to cut her potential losses and run, but the last Game kept mocking her -- Howard slicing his own throat, that wave of blood that blanketed him. Hyperion's taunts. She wasn't doing that shit again. If she saw him, she was gonna knock his goddamn head off.

And thinking of what else she could grab fucked her. She'd been looking for living, human Tributes, barely sparing a glance at the bodies. Adrenaline gave some incredible tunnel vision. The body crashing into her knocked her clean off her feet, both her and the snarling, drooling zombie (because it was instinct to know, and it was always the Dead that attacked) slamming into the hot pink grass. She cried out "Fuck!" as the stuff exploded in a sugary cloud like it was made of cotton candy, stinging her eyes as she tried shoving the corpse off by his shoulders.

The bat. Fuck, where was the bat? She'd dropped it. Fuck! And the rest of the weapons were trapped under her, the point of a star digging into her back, the splitting pain like her scalp was gonna come off. The zombie was the equivalent of a rabid dog, snapping at her throat, the force of its hunger bending her arms. She blinked back tears from the grass, from the surprise, from the slamming of her heart going as fast as a trapped rabbit's. Because that was she was. (She used to be smarter than this.)

Julie managed to wedge a leg blindly between them, shoving the zombie up with her knee to give her some distance. "Get off!"

[shambler]

Hearing those words, that voice, sent a shudder up R. For a moment it seemed as if maybe he recognized it, Julie’s voice trying to peel back the hunger while it dug in its heels and shoved back, angry. Not today, it screamed. It swatted aside the part of him that knew better. R's hesitation gave Julie plenty of time to get that leg between them before he changed his mind, the zombie finding out suddenly there was a knee levered between him and food. Huh, that hadn’t been there before -

He growled as he was pushed off, his hand swiping at her face in a last ditch effort and missing by inches before she shoved him away. R landed in a sprawl on his side, the schemagh tied around his neck splattered with flecks of his drool.

He tried to get to his feet – couldn’t – and settled for a crawl because screw it, his legs weren’t doing what he needed them to and he wasn’t willing to wait. R inhaled and went dizzy with that Living smell winding its way through the candy and the cavity grass, lancing right through to him and splashing across his corpse. This close he couldn’t lose that scent. It shouted in his face. Sang in his ears. One hand clawed for purchase in the pink grass, the other one slapping forward and wrapping around the human’s calf. He dragged her closer with one jerky motion.

This probably wasn’t a good idea. Last time he came from this angle, he got his eyeball kicked out by an archaeologist.

The hunger shrugged. Whatever. Worth it. He wasn’t too hung up on having two eyes anyway.

“Hggh!” R’s mouth gaped open as he used his weight against hers. The Living girl was so close he could almost taste her already. He'd worry about fishing that pretty blonde hair out of his teeth later.

[misscabernet]

With the weight gone, she barely had enough time to scramble back up onto her hands, blindly reaching for the bat. Where the fuck had it gone? There was chaos, probably bodies falling around them, and all she could do was keep her eyes on the zombie, wipe the fuzz of tears away --

"R?" His name was an exhale, barely enough time for Julie to suck in another breath before the zombie was back on her, grabbing her leg. She froze. Stupid, stupid fucking human instincts.

Except it wasn't instincts. It was the memory of her dad's face, stretched by giant screens, shouting they are not human. They may look like your wife, your brother, your children, but they are not human. And wasn't it so fucking stupid of her to even think for a second that he was anything but a goddamn corpse? Days ago she'd been thinking he'd never looked more human. There wasn't a trace of that soft, unsteady humanity left.

It was that pharmacy all over again. Perry shouting, Nora ducking under a desk. The zombies slamming the door down and spreading out like a living, biting wave. This is what she'd missed, what Perry had seen. R's black drool, his snapping mouth. Maybe he'd eat her brain, too. Find out all the stupid shit she'd thought. They could be Dead together.

That unfroze her. She kicked his face as hard as she could even with the light sandals strapped around her ankles, nails digging into the soft soil as she crawled backwards. "R, stop!" Better than an exhale, but her voice still cracked in its urgency. "Stop!"

[shambler]

Speaking again. A word - a name, the ghost of a name because he didn't have one anymore - and that was enough to make R's grip on her ankle loosen a fraction. What happened next even he could've predicted. The girl mule-kicked him hard in the face with her cute little sandal, enough to break his nose and rattle his teeth in his skull. Miraculously his eye didn't get kicked out a second time around. What counted for his blood didn't gush. It oozed out his shattered nose and mouth, black against the cottony pink around them.

That wasn't what made R let go.

R, stop! Stop!

The words caressed his brain, first like a soft push, and escalated to a gunshot's strength smashing right into the frontal lobe, nice and sniper-clean, stopping R dead in his tracks. With a gasp he finally let go of the girl, Julie!, releasing her leg before he could bite a chunk out of it, the hunger whining and complaining the whole time like a backseat driver. He couldn't make it as a human - now he couldn't even cut it as a walking corpse. R struggled to focus past that red haze as he fell back, sick with horror, suddenly aware of how close he'd come to ruining Julie's life. Just like Perry. Worse than Perry, because Julie still tried to find things to live for and he didn't need to eat her brain to know she really, really wanted to live.

Now R's groan was miserable instead of desperate as his head hung low, his mouth working as he tried to come up with anything to say at all before Julie booked it out of Dodge. Between the hunger and that weird...feeling burning up through his body, even syllables felt impossible today. R tried anyway.

"Ju...lie...?" R finally got something out, hoping she could pick out actual words. "Sss....ssorr..."

[misscabernet]

"Shut up." No apologies right now. She didn't give a shit about an apology. It didn't mean a goddamn thing. Her heart was slamming so fast she could barely breathe over the beat of her pulse, rapid-fire in her neck. An inch or two. That's all he'd needed. One bite and she was gone and hell if she knew whether the Capitol would bring her back human or not. They sure as hell hadn't cured R, had they?

The moment where she just stared at him, wide-eyed, seemed like forever. His nose was crooked. Broken. Chin covered in black, stinking saliva, the Dead black sludge that was their blood. Then the Arena crashed back into her head with the yells, the screams, the feet on soil. Crunching of grass and, in the distance, the soft singing of god knows what.

He'd saved her before. More than once. The favors were repaid at this point.

"Come on." She shoved to her feet, her legs shaking with the combination of fear and adrenaline. And her fucking bat, there it was. A foot out of her reach. She grabbed it, squeezed the handle with one hand. She shuddered to do it, but her other hand reached for R's shoulder. Her bag was still on her back, though she was pretty sure the star had cut through it, pierced her shoulder. She got what she wanted. Time to leave. There were too many tributes here to watch and now she had a half-mad zombie to keep safe. "We have to get away from the Cornucopia!"

[shambler]

R shut up, no questions asked. Sorry didn’t cut it.

Plus he doubted he could manage anything else right now. He ran out of words.

The zombie gave Julie all the space she needed and then some, watching as she collected her stuff like a bat that looked like it could cave in a skull, easy. After that near miss, R was determined to give Julie all the space a girl could ask for, almost afraid to move and scare her off. Might be too late for that, R thought miserably. Julie’s eyes were wide, pupils so dilated and blown out they looked almost black instead of blue. Despite himself, R’s eyes wandered away from her face, down, and fixed on her neck, at the pulse he could see and sense pumping all that Life through Julie’s body as it went into survival mode.

He fought aside the hunger when it gave him a daydream of biting her hand clean off. Instead R ground his teeth together and only nodded like a mute, his jaw clenched tight because if he opened his mouth, he was afraid he’d be unable to control himself. Better not risk it.

R staggered back to his feet, having to lean on Julie more than he wanted to. His legs were going all over the place now, wobbling and swaying despite the fact that as far as he could tell, they were the same as they’ve always been. Clumsy, but there. Now he could barely control them, this weird…weird feeling that he wasn’t sure was pain spreading. Was this what it felt like? He’d gone so long he didn’t even know. Asking Julie was out of the question. The two of them staggered their way further and further away from the Cornucopia, tripping over gumdrops and giant candy canes.

They were in view of the lake, muddy and too thick to be water, when R went down in a heap and almost took Julie with him. He checked to make sure his legs were still there. Nothing snapped off while they were running. When he looked up at Julie, his expression was torn between still hungry and baffled.

“Can’t…” R risked the words. No other choice. To his horror, more of the black drool came foaming out as the poison did its business. The zombie tried to speak around the stuff choking him into silence. “…Lll-legs…feel…sssomething…”

Don’t throw up, R willed himself. He’d already nearly killed Julie today; he didn’t want to start puking black sludge all over her on top of everything else. He could still salvage this.

[misscabernet]

It said a lot about how goddamn crazy she was to curl a hand around the zombie and help him limp away from the Cornucopia. He was about half a foot from her neck, and that sludge was still dripping out of his mouth -- large dollops of it hit her weird poncho thing, staining the fabric.

What mattered was getting away. After that. Well. Fuck. She wasn't thinking. Instinct here.

It was shitty going. R towered over her easily, even hunched over as he normally was, and he was gangly enough that his tripping nearly brought her down every single damn time. Still. She was determined not to let him go down, her arm growing tighter and tighter around his torso as his gait became sloppier.

It was no surprise he eventually went down, Julie barely ducking out from under his arm before she was trapped underneath him. No way in hell was she getting underneath him again. She didn't -- couldn't trust him right now. The hunger was never something words could get through.

(So why had he stopped trying to eat her? Jesus.)

"What's wrong with you?" Anger was easier than fear, even though she was soaked to the bone in both. She dragged the bat across the ground, taking his arm and pulling it. He barely moved. The adrenaline was already working to drain her of energy and he couldn't stop here.

Oh. God. That black boiled over his mouth, making her step back in both fear and disgust. This was -- god, she wasn't a fucking expert, but this was her head screaming not right. He wasn't hurt. He shouldn't have been, except for that nose. It was more like his guts had boiled down and were now being squeezed out of him in a consistency close to a rotten avocado.

He'd said he'd die if he didn't eat people. Was that part of it? Had he not eaten since last Arena? What was she supposed to do, cut a finger off for him to munch on? Already Dad's instincts were telling her that he was a liability. The sick always dragged you down. Better to cut losses so someone survives.

Too bad she wasn't the daughter he would've liked. She dropped the bat and hit her knees beside him, keeping him sitting up with a hand on his shoulder. She hid her nose in her elbow, paranoid of infection. "Fucking talk to me, R." 'Cause she'd beat his head in if he tried to bite her again. Always sucked when communication with a zombie was imperative. "Are you starving?"

[shambler]

Was she really asking him what was wrong? R shot her a look. How would he know? This was a first: zombies weren't all that great at firsts.

R was trying to work out how to talk around the tar bubbling out his mouth and remember his grammar; even his hunger was distracted now because he'd seen how other Dead starve. This didn't happen. Zombies got hungry enough to attack anything moving or eventually just gave up and let themselves die somewhere. Not this. Whatever was going on here. He was starting to think this might be pain after all; real, honest pain, pain he’d wondered what it’d be like the first time he got shot and felt nothing. It'd be a relief to finally feel if he wasn't in the middle of an Arena, stuck there with Julie looking like she'd bolt if he moved too fast or looked at her wrong. He couldn’t blame her. She was a smart girl. She’d know when to run.

Talk to Julie. She wanted him to talk. So he tried:

"Hngungry...not...starv....st - yet," R by now was having trouble propping himself up even with Julie helping, his arms starting to twitch on him like someone else was at the wheel. He sagged against Julie, trying his best not to get black vomit all over her.

“Don’t…know. New…?”

R managed to turn his head just in time as he convulsed: he heaved, his body reacting while he played catching up. Oil splattered against the lake’s bank, narrowly missing Julie’s leg. R hadn’t figured out he should be scared. It was the human thing to do. Zombies weren’t known for the self-preservation thing and R was still busy trying to figure out a way to get up and fix the damage he caused. Looking up at Julie’s face, he could see right now he wasn’t helping. Some of what she was thinking flitted across her eyes, visible above her elbow. Leave and live? Stay and help the corpse who almost ate me? Choices, choices. Through the pain, R realized the organs he had were collapsing in on themselves, shriveling as the poison hit its end stage.

So long kidneys. Wish I knew you better, small intestines. Not even sure what you did, stomach.

He must be dying. The pathetic thing was R wasn’t ready: he still had things to groan, starting with Julie. What if this was a new infection? Another stage, because it wasn’t bad enough to be a walking, rotting corpse.

[misscabernet]

He should be glad she was too busy freaking out to think what stupid questions they were. Like she would know -- she was too busy fucking running from zombies to take in what their various levels of decomposition were.

Just hungry. What was he like if he was starving? Or did he not care who he ate until it came to her?

God. Seriously, she couldn't deal with this. Not now. She'd been in the arena for five minutes and already the one face that shouldn't be failing her was vomiting his own liquefied innards. Her instincts wee warring between leave him the fuck behind and stay and figure out what was going on. She couldn't -- she didn't abandon people. Or corpses, apparently.

She gasped as the drool turned into a deluge, shaking as she pulled away only to move closer to his back so the sludge didn't land on her. She propped up her knee behind his back, stupidly holding her hand just above his shoulder blade. Something new. How much worse could it get? Bad enough they were out here in the open, begging to be picked off.

And he wasn't freaking like he should be. She'd seen people vomit blood, watched them die crying or screaming or offing themselves if they had no other way out.

"I'm here," she said, because she was human and humans always had to say something during times like this, no matter how stupid it sounded. Watching people die didn't mean she was immune to it. Not that he was -- zombies didn't die. Not like this. They were already dead. "Jesus, R. Don't go out on me now."

[shambler]

This wasn’t working out. The whole dying nobly and not puking up your guts, literally, in front of the girl you liked thing. Not going awesome.

R knew eventually he’d die (again). He just assumed it’d be by the traditional, old school ways like a sniper picking him out in a crowd or an ax to the face or even a decapitation, not that survivors liked doing those anymore. Too many heads still biting back. Dying a second time around was only a matter of when. R thought he’d gone through every possible scenario of dying: he just…hadn’t pictured this. Not by some lakeside with a Living girl trying to do the decent thing and staying with him. Being there. Funny how that worked out.

R assumed he’d die like every other corpse out there – anonymously.

“Hhhere?” The zombie choked out. He needed that knee bracing himself up at this point because it was the only thing keeping him upright, R using the warmth of Julie’s hand on his back to help him focus. The words still came like miracles. “…Try….ing but…ssor…”

Trying wasn’t enough. R eventually ran out of sludge as he slumped to the side, his mouth slack as he continued to choke on air, his lungs wheezing while the last of the tar oozed down his chin. Without realizing what he was doing, his hand groped out for anything. A connection, maybe. Checking to make sure Julie was still there. Comforting her? Maybe he just felt better holding hands. He didn’t know. At this point R wasn’t thinking about how he could scare Julie off making any sudden moves. His fingers closed tight on hers. He managed to hold on for a long moment before even that seemed not worth the effort, R’s grip relaxing. His hand slid away because he just lost the rest of his motor controls, his corpse giving a few last death throes on him while he was still trapped inside.

Here, though. Julie was still here.

The zombie was still trying to find something else to say – maybe to thank her for staying or even another sorry – when the poison finished him off. R twitched one last time and then stilled, his eyes still frozen on Julie.

Whatever he'd been about to say rattled out and was gone.

[misscabernet]

Also human instinct to pretend that things that were clearly happening in front of them weren't happening. Of course, she'd also never seen a zombie puke itself to death -- hell, she'd never seen one puke in general. She kept thinking she'd seen this before, but it was the result of bad food. Rotting food. Or poison.

But. He was dead. This shit didn't happen to corpses. They didn't get picky about who they are. Obviously.

A shiver ran up her spine as the zombie grasped her fingers, the tips freezing cold, lacking that distinct human moisture. This was taking cold and clammy to another level. Still. She didn't pull away. Fuck if she could. Somewhere in her head, she'd accepted that, for whatever reason, her zombie was dying.

When he was gone, slumped over and lifeless -- hah, a lifeless corpse -- she released a shuddering breath, wiping her eyes with an elbow. For a crazed minute, she wanted to throw a tantrum. How fucking fair was it that he could try to tear her apart and then die afterward? How was that right?

"Fuck, R." He'll come back. Sure. She believes that. Enough to hook her arms under his and drag the heavy, decaying body after her.

Julie distinctly felt like this Arena was delicately planned out to really get on her fucking nerves. The cute colors, the singing. The zombie trying to kill her.

She blinked away tears -- of irritation, of course -- and pulled the body into a shaded place of trees. He felt dead. Like, completely. Looked dead. No one was gonna care about him out here. Just another corpse out of plenty others. (Why wasn't there the normal explosion in the sky?)

Whatever. She was stupid enough to care about a zombie (she wasn't thinking about the idea he might not come back), but not stupid enough to stay and cry by its corpse. She smoothed his hair from his brow, covering his open eyes with a few colorful gumballs. She recognized them for what they were; her mind didn't process it.

"Fucking corpse." She grabbed her bat, lugged her bag back between her shoulders. It felt heavier than before. Still. She took the burden and shot out of there, ducking under the huge, rounded head of a standing lollipop. She was on Candy goddamn Mountain covered in zombie ooze, and she was almost thankful for the rotting sludge that covered up the smell of sugar.

Fucking corpse. Once he showed up in the Capitol, he was going to wish he was dying all over again.