In the desert, you can remember your name.

[gamemakers]

Who| Group 2
What| Waking up in the desert arena
Where| Scattered around
When| Several hours after the Candy Cornucopia
Warnings/Notes| Deathroll will be coming soon to check out this arena's cornucopia and find out who dies between now and next week.

Make no mistake about it. The bloodbath of this Arena's Cornucopia was brutal. Half of the Tributes fell, a jerking, painful death. It is the highest death count in one day that recent memory can ascertain. It is shocking and unexpected, certainly a twist as far as those watching from the safety of the Capitol are concerned.

But it doesn't compare to what happens next. Because the Tributes that fell in in the bright candy hell don't wake up.

At least, not in the Capitol.

Not this time.

The fallen Tributes' eyes open, one by one, as the trackers in their arms let out an uncharacteristic jolt to bring them back to consciousness. They are not in their soft beds in the Training Center. They are not even in the Capitol. Instead, there is heat, more intense than that in the strange candy land that they had been in. A wind picks up, swirling dust and sand around them, stinging eyes and skin.

Everyone who was cut down is spread far and wide throughout this arena, still in their costumes, perhaps a little worse for wear.

"Good afternoon, Tributes." Claudius Templesmith's voice echoes through the air once all of the Tributes have been unceremoniously awoken. "And welcome to the second half of the Seventh Arena of the 75th Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in your favor."

And with that, they're on their own....

Comments

[shambler]

R thinks about it. Orc must mean other Dead. Air's re-killed, his brains splattered awhile ago. Karis is - he has no idea where Karis is. And Shion's probably died of infection by now if someone hasn't gone for his head, so R guesses that's...crap. Counting. Not his strong point.

The zombie makes an effort for Orc, his face scrunching up until he thinks he's got this:

"Don't...think...so. Only...three...?" R shrugs. Obviously that number could change if people get infected. Orc's probably the safest one here from that, though. Zombies don't do rocks.

[paidinbeer]

Orc considered this and then resumed his aimless walking.

"Maybe if we just walk we can leave." He reasoned. Reasoning was hard for Orc but when he was by himself...or in this case with someone who wasn't telling him what to do, he could make an attempt.

[shambler]

R's already shaking his head, the motion wobbly. "Die...first. Starve. Rather...risk...here."

He staggers after Orc, gesturing at the desert around them. He knows there's other Tributes scattered out here. Orc might be find smashing boulders and spitting out gravel, or whatever it was he did to eat, but some people here couldn't live off that kind of diet.

[paidinbeer]

"That wouldn't be so bad." Orc reasoned and altered course only slightly. It might not have even been intentional.

"Sometimes dead is better."

[shambler]

R couldn't tell if that was a trick question or not. Which kind of dead? Because R could make a solid, groaning argument about why being zombie wasn't something to shoot for. Personal experience and all that stuff.

"Huh!" R grunted under his breath, almost a moody little mutter. "Depends...who...?"

[paidinbeer]

"Well yeah." Orc reasoned out loud rubbing the back of his craggy, bumpy head. "Obviously some people are fine. Some people are good and should be alive. But some people are better off dead and done." It was the most he'd said since he'd woken up in this new world full of death and confusion.

It was clear from the tone of his voice which group he thought he belonged in.

[shambler]

"Harsh," R said with a skeptical wheeze. Talk about a depressing outlook from this guy. "You need..."

What does Orc need? R's probably the last person to be giving him life-changing advice, the zombie trailing off awkwardly.

[paidinbeer]

That was enough to make Orc curious and he turned to look over his shoulder at R.

"I need what?" Because Orc could think of alot of things he needed, and most of them weren't good.

[shambler]

The zombie went for the first thing that came to mind...even if it felt a lot lamer with his stumbling, clumsy attempts at sentences.

"Dis...dis-tractions. Hobby," R said and shrugged, and hoped that helped.

[paidinbeer]

It had been so long since he'd been allowed the luxury of a hobby he almost couldn't remember what it was he used to like to do.

"Like what?" He challenged resuming his trudging pace, keeping pace so R could remain in his shadow.

[shambler]

R didn't notice off the bat that Orc was actually sharing his shadow, despite all that fuss earlier. He was still plodding along, kicking up a trail through the sand any Tribute with working eyes could follow. They're not much of a stealth duo, apparently.

"Uggh....collect...things or..." R was really straining something here, trying to think of what a big rock pile could do for fun. "Bird...watch?"

[paidinbeer]

Orc actually seemed thoughtful about that. What had he liked doing before the FAYZ.

"Do they have sports? Other then this?" He gestured around them indicating the arena. He remembered before life stopped making sense he'd found great comfort in sports.

[shambler]

R dully followed that gesture, his mouth dropped slightly open. A gnat buzzed his face before trying Orc on for size, realizing they were both not worth the effort, and eventually flew away.

"Probably..." R shrugged. "Didn't...ask."

Sports were honestly the last thing on R's mind. A little too lively.

[paidinbeer]

Well that was decidedly unhelpful. Still it could be worse Orc reasoned. It was a rare moment of optimism out of him which was quickly squashed.

"Won't matter what I wanna do if I don't get out of here. And there's only two ways out right?"

He reconsidered punching his new companion just to feel like he was making progress.

Does Orc already know about Howard being here?

[shambler]

Two ways out?

Oh. Yeah, that. R guessed there was only two ways out for someone like Orc - win or...die? (Could he die? What happened to rock piles, they get shattered to gravel? Stop moving?). To be honest, R hadn't really put too much thought into it recently - getting out of here hadn't seemed that important - and he could only shrug again.

"Keep busy still, I...guess," R muttered, annoyed he didn't have any earth-shattering advice. "Ask...Tributes?"

In other words, R was happy to try pointing Orc in the right direction while he tried to get something in his stomach. At least Orc's shade was nice, R finally noticing he wasn't having that sun beating down on him.

Not yet, at night he'll find the TV screens showing Howard.

[paidinbeer]

Well that made sense. That was how he dealt with life in the FAYZ. Either he worked, or he drank himself stupid. And he couldn't drink here. There wasn't any booze as far as he could tell.

"Which ones?" If Orc knew which ones could help him he wouldn't try to kill them right off.

...that thought felt heavy. Heavier then the weight on his shoulders that he always carried with him. Could he...would he kill again? He who had already wanted to die?

The sun beat down on him and every step felt like the sand was trying to hold onto his heavy gravel coated feet.

Okay, gotcha. I won't have R mention Howard then.

[shambler]

R struggled to bring up names: people he knew, friends (if he had any). A few syllables and vowels floated up, R's face slowly scrunching into concentration.

"Aun...mee?" R didn't even sound sure, but he had to give Orc something. "Julie. Good people. They'll...help."

If Julie was still around and she didn't bolt at the sight of Orc. No offense, but look at him - even R felt slightly uneasy around a big rock...thing and he was Dead.

Actually it should be OK, it wasn't like a huge revelation when he finally did see him

[paidinbeer]

Orc gave a non-comittal grunt in response. He knew he couldn't rely on only himself to figure out this world. He wasn't smart enough.

But for now, all he had to work with was his muscle, and a barely articulate zombie.

"This sucks." He grumbled with his knack for stating the obvious.

Alright, I'll have him drop it then

[shambler]

"Yeah," R nodded. He tried to think of something to say, something more positive than "that's about all the friends I have". A name came up out of the Dead murk, R latching onto it. "Maybe...ask...How-ward? He's...smart."

Really smart. This was the guy who made a bunch of traps in Disneyland and survived for as long as he did. R was dead certain if there was anyone who could help Orc out, it was Howard.

And thus R earns a few extra points in Orc's book

[paidinbeer]

Orc stopped dead in his tracks and looked back over his shoulder. It couldn't be a coincidence could it?

"Howard?"

He turned around slowly so he was facing R and squinted at him as if that would give him the answers he needed.

"Little guy. Kinda weasely?" Orc held out one of his shovel sized hands to gesture how tall Howard would be.

[shambler]

"Small," R said, his head bobbing along. He wasn't so sure he'd go for "weasely" himself, though. "Good...friend. He'll...help."

R's hand came up, unsteadily copying Orc's gesture at the yay-high Howard height. It was pretty small, the two of them already dwarfing the imaginary-human.

[paidinbeer]

Orc was baffled. Could Howard really be here? He had heard about Howard's death back home, torn apart by hungry mutant coyotes. The same way Orc had almost died.

But something even more baffling had been said in the few words that R uttered.

"Howard has friends?"

[shambler]

The zombie looked like he didn't get the real meat of the question, staring back at Orc.

"Why...not? We're...friends. I like him," R said, thinking it was pretty simple put like that.

[paidinbeer]

Orc stared right back as if R had grown an extra head.

"Howard doesn't...make friends." Orc tried to explain. "People hate him." He stopped to think if perhaps hate was too harsh a word. But considering the scowls most people got back home whenever Howard was around...no hate was entirely the right word.

[shambler]

"He's not...bad," R argued right back, sounding for once like he had conviction in his voice instead of bored, like he'd wander off in the middle of the conversation. "Has friends, o...kay?"

He stared up at Orc, new to this whole defending-your-friends thing. What was Orc then, if he wasn't Howard's friend? They knew each other, right?