Welcome To Arena 08

[gamemakers]

Today begins particularly early by normal standards. Long before the sun, or even a hint of dawn arrives. When the world is still and black and quiet, save for the parties still raging on from the night before. Night owls still have not gone to sleep. Everyone knows what today is, even if you've only just arrived.

There is a palpable tension in the air as everyone is ushered out under the cover of darkness to board the hovercrafts. A stream of faces both familiar and unknown filter in and take their seats, and very little is said as tributes are strapped in and attendants make their rounds, activating tracking devices. There are no windows, no openings no view of the outside world as it passes silently, below. The journey takes hours. And when everyone finally arrives, there is no hint of sky or grass or cloud or tree. Just long concrete hallways and rows of uniformed peacekeepers that remind everyone to keep in line in the underbelly of the unknown.

One by one, each tribute is lead into a small concrete room where stylists outfit tributes in their only bit of protection for the next coming weeks. Little is given away by the clothing each stylists put their tribute in. No flair or flourish or costumed monstrosity this time. Just simple, functional mundane civilian clothing. Khakis, cotton shirts, boots.

There is little time to dress and say goodbyes. Only a few small moments left to gather your thoughts. And then, the countdown starts. A countdown displayed in holographic blue begins:

25. 24. 23. 22....

The smell of earth and grass and a general damp green fills your lungs as you rise, slowly into a large grass field. At first, its the only thing you can see in all directions until the pedestal locks in place.

20. 19. 18. 17....

In the near distance, the cornucopia looms. Massive. Copper. Even hidden by the grass you can see its spoils are plentiful, tempting anyone with even a mild curiosity streak to come explore. Some may see this as a warning sign already .

15. 14. 13...

You can see the others, around you. Their heads, maybe the shoulders of taller tributes, and very little else. If there is anything hidden in this field you would never know it. The grass is too tall and too thick to show what might be lurking near the ground.

10. 9. 8....

There is just a hint of a breeze and the lingering scent of recent rain. The humidity is more uncomfortable than the heat., its a thick, jungle-like warm. You can see a dense tangle of trees in the distance. Blue sky filled with towering white clouds. Its the sort of place where nothing ever truly seems to be dry. At least you might not have to worry about freezing to death.

6. 5. 4...

For just a moment, everything goes perfectly still. Perfectly silent.

The grass rustles.

You feel the breeze.

2.

1.

0.

You will have two hours until a short warning alarm will sound and the sonic fences turn on across the entire arena.

Comments

[earthborn]

In dim light, red and green faded to grey, and all became indistinguishable. In darkness the twin points of her eyes would stand out like reflective cat's eyes— but in full light? Well, she hadn't yet had time for much in the way of camouflage, and her hair was anything but stealthy.

Funny, how the jagged planes and reduced silhouette of a Turian blended so well into the underbrush. She'd heard movement, nothing was completely silent in among the mast, and Shepard held herself motionless, hand on her knife.

"Show yourself now," There's only one way to win a bad hand of Skyllian Five; bluff like hell, "...And I might let you go."

[gunshiptotheface]

He knew that voice, there was no mistaking the command in the words and the bluff as well. Standing up slowly he made sure not to make any sudden movements.

"Is that how you beat Donnelly in Skillian Five with those kinds of bluffs?" He said, making his way out into an area a little less screened in than where he had been hiding.

[earthborn]

"Hey, Garrus," Armor or no, and even without his visor, there's no mistaking him. The grin she feels has teeth in it; they're in business now. Shepard and Vakarian ride again.

"Nah, Donnelly's a soft touch. I reminded him that I outranked him and he rolled over like a trained varren. Here—" She fished the second hunting knife out and tossed it to him, "Looks like you could use this. But seriously, ask Tali about it sometime, it was sad."

[gunshiptotheface]

"I did ask Tali, it's how I know how you won, your bluffs aren't that good." He was teasing her, only a little, but caught the second hunting knife with ease. The fact she was giving him a hunting knife in an arena where it was designated that they kill each other was a monumental unsaid agreement between the two of them.

"At least one of us came away with a decent amount of weapons. but, the next questions is where should we go?"

[earthborn]

She'd be offended if she knew; of all the people to trust in times of great extremity, Garrus was her first choice, matched only by the likes of David Anderson.

"For now? Find a dry camp, where we can keep a safe stash. Someplace relatively hidden. Do some recon, and—" A siren sounded, and she stopped, tense. The pause seemed interminable and then, soft among the rising hum of a wary forest, a gentler hum, all but indistinguishable, unless you were listening for it. The Sonic Fences were active.

"...And find out just how screwed we all are."

[gunshiptotheface]

"That can't be a good thing." The hum was just a low enough frequency to provide a background pitch that set him slightly on edge. It wasn't a natural sound and after dealing with reapers for so long, something like that always boded ill for anyone.

"I suggest we get off of the forest floor, if this place is like Palaven the forest floor is the best place to camp if you want to be eaten."