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

[futilecycle]

The touch does bring him back somewhat, reminds him that he's not the only person in his world of pain, and though he's now shivering he stops crying and sighs. His body has begun to respond with endorphins, dulling the pain for now - he remembers grimly it won't be for long. He's no longer aware of how much time has passed since he fell and when Neffa found him. One minute? Five minutes? Ten? But Sigma shakes his head, knowing no one else came near him. "No." Wait, there was one, before any of this even began: "-Tracker. They did this. Must have." The emphasis is said with so much loathing that it can only be the Capitol.

He has a little time before the toxicant strips away his last defense. He swallows, unwilling to return to that world of nothing but agony, but knowing he must face it as bravely as he walked into the Mars Trap. His eye finally focusing, he meets Neffa's gaze. Behind him, beyond him, he sees some others have succumbed as well. "Go, quickly." He trembles, his evil deeds resurfacing in his memory, and his face warps into a deeply haunted expression. Perhaps he at last resembles the hundred years he has 'lived'. "You have no need to watch this. At any rate, I deserve it. Run..!"

[lessthanelementary]

It's stunning, how many kinds of fear it's possible to feel at once. There's still the sick, helpless fear of watching Sigma die; still the constant, high-pitched screech at the back of his mind urging him to run run run, the hallmark of the Arena; and now, added to it, a sinking, disbelieving horror, so awful he almost rejects it out of hand. That's impossible. They wouldn't. That defeats the entire purpose...

He wants to ask again, to prove that Sigma's simply delusional with pain, to write it off as paranoia, to find the real reason, but the command stops him. He's right. The battles at the Cornucopia must be ending by now. He's made himself a target for every person pelting this direction with a newly-gained weapon.

But he hesitates-- just for a second, poised an instant away from leaping to his feet and resuming his mad dash for anywhere-but-here. "Please-- is there--" He swallows hard. "Is there anything I can do?" Logically, he knows it's hopeless - he saw Ariadne die, he knows how quickly this will go, he can see on Sigma's face that it isn't going to be much longer - but-- gods, it feels cruel just to leave him.

[futilecycle]

Sigma would have smiled if he could. Optimism against all odds was a regular trait of his when he was younger. He'd judged Neffa to be an upstanding young man at their first meeting, and he still believed that - he knew how morally detestable it would have been to leave a suffering old man to die. His sentences are short now, he replies through staccato breaths as the poison flares up again. "You've done enough. You came for me. Now go win." Panem needed more honest men like him as their victors and mentors.

Sigma holds his breath as he feels his body's natural painkillers being taken away, and with the very last of his energy he kneels to his feet. He tries to rise, though his movements are jerky - his sight in his good eye explodes into nothing but white, and vision in his cynernetic eye flickers off and on though he desperately tries to keep it focused. He taps Neffa on the shoulder, intending it to be a push forward, hoping he would flee first. And Sigma is stable long enough to rush ahead a few paces as though they'd sprint together. He knew he wouldn't get far, but now Neffa had nothing to regret.

[lessthanelementary]

He takes the hint. All he needed was the excuse. Everything in him breathes a sigh of relief, glad to be moving, as he hauls himself onto shaking legs, ducks his head, and takes off again, pausing only to throw a glance over his shoulder at the Cornucopia--

He sees, from the corner of his eye, Sigma slow beside him, but he's got his momentum up, and his mind responds to his attempt to slow down with a flat, furious NO. "Doctor-- Are you--?"

He's dead. He's as good as dead. There's nothing you can do. This is what he tells himself, as he runs. But there's something in him that simply doesn't want to see him die-- because maybe death is contagious. Maybe if he runs from the end, death will not chase after him. Maybe if he does not see the end, he can trick it out of his mind, and maybe he will even sleep tonight, and not see the cybernetic eye glaring, and the wires coated in white not-blood, and see the twitching of his limbs.

Now go win. He laughs as he runs, and it's half a sob. I hate to disappoint you, old man.

But for now, he's alive; maybe Sigma will awaken in the Capitol (the Capitol that murdered him) and see him on the screens, and know he made it this far. Maybe.

Neffa turns his back, and runs.

[futilecycle]

Naturally Sigma doesn't last long. The last thing he sees before his vision cuts is Neffa running away, which manages to comfort the Doctor. He keeps his legs moving almost by reflex, barely aware he's still running, and when he trips and slams against the candy road again he doesn't know he's fallen. This time he does not get back up, there's no lucidity in his eyes, he does not move voluntarily. Crumpled beneath his body, his limbs twitch irregularly.

Even if Neffa were still beside him, it would make no difference - in the last few moments of his life, consumed by the poison, their conversation has vanished from his mind. The only thing he's aware of is the torture and the darkness encroaching on his consciousness. For the first time in his long and multiple lives, Zero meets death eagerly.