Who| Sherlock, John and OPEN
What| A present from the sky on the way to Frontierland, and meeting whoever they find there
Where| Main Street to Frontier land
When| Week three
Warnings/Notes| None so far!


They had to move.

Their camp inside an empty building on Main Street was safe, of course, but offered absolutely nothing as far as food and water went, and it was the water that was concerning Sherlock the most. He remembered there being open water in Frontierland (in the DisneyWorld veresion, anyway), however, so after briefly to John, they packed up and headed out, checking the street carefully for any other tributes before venturing once more into the outside world.

"We'll have to try the water in turns, since we have no way of cleaning it. I'll go first - you're the more valuable one in a - ah - medical emergency. Food, on the other hand--"

Even as he spoke, however, a small parachute was drifting towards them.

The last few hours before the Arena have a strangely stifled quality, as if half the people they interact with are trying very hard not to laugh. Maybe it's the costumes, the fancy gowns and velvet tunics, the short capes. Or maybe it's their destination.

The round courtyard to which the tubes bring them could not be more different from the last arena. Though outside the circle of pedestals, disrepair and neglect has taken over the roads and buildings, the garden inside the circle could not be more perfectly sculpted. Every hedge is a smooth, rounded shape. Flowers bloom brightly in concentric circles of insane color. The Cornucopia sits gleaming and golden, and just in front of its mouth, a bronze statue of a man and a mouse stands amid the heap of supplies.


Aside from it, there is a hush. No flies in the flowers, no wind in the trees. It is a cool day, with the comfortable chill of early spring and noon's short shadows.



Outside the circle, behind the tributes on the northern side, a castle looms. Through its wide gate, devastation everywhere, but it, itself, is shining clean, glowing pink and blue. Opaque windows look down from the heights of it, as uncaring as every hidden camera the veterans know is there.



Music starts as the countdown nears the bottom, a whimsical, dramatic tune.




And with the final note, the gong rang out, and a firework shot into the sky from the castle's peak, bright enough to burst redly across the sky above them all. Let the Games begin.



((OOC NOTES: IF YOUR CHARACTER HAS POWERS THE CAPITOL HAS NERFED, make sure you are on this list.

And everyone really should review the arena post. Because there's a little more to play with than you might think.

And please remember to add your character's tag to each post they're in.))

WHO| Sherlock, Danny, Lindsey, and Tony
WHAT| Sherlock gets dead. ded ded ded.
WHEN| 3rd Week
WHERE| In a crevasse.
WARNINGS/NOTES| Death, fighting, gore, snarkyness, etc.

The crevasse seemed to stretch on forever. They had been walking for some time, now, stopping once or twice to rest and to eat what meager supplies they had left, but there was still no way to climb up, that they could find. Even with Danny's axe.

Sherlock did not bother to mention the fact that two of his fingers on his right hand and at least three of his toes were well into the symptoms of frostbite. He'd complained about it once, when it was still half a joke, but as there was nothing either of them could do about it, continued complaints were pointless. He kept his failing body to himself.

The hunger was too obvious to mention.

Sherlock had never eaten much, especially while on a case - but he had never been in a situation where he had actually wanted to eat and it was completely unavailable to him. It was frustrating on an entirely new level.

He came to an abrupt halt as suddenly the crevasse ended - the further path too narrow for either of them to fit, and Sherlock cursed under his breath.

"Nothing," he said, happy to point out the obvious. "No way up here, either."

[ooc: tagging order: i was thinking sherlock, then danny, then lindsey, and then tony can jump into the thread whenever feels appropriate? y/y?]

Who| Sherlock, Danny and then OPEN
What| Sherlock and Danny end up in a crevasse when it opens up under their shelter
Where| their hidey-hole and then boom in an ice crevasse
When| after Katurian's death and then through the next couple days I guess?
Warnings| uh none so far, probably violence eventually? will update as necessary


It took almost all night for Sherlock to find his way back to the shelter. The first lances of sunlight were lighting the perpetual overcast - the dark dark black slowly turning grey. He was shivering bodily, quite convinced his temperature had dropped by more than a few degrees, and that the eggs in his pocket - without the incubating body heat of their parents - had likely frozen. He was shaken, if he admitted it to himself. This arena was wearing on him. It wasn't that he hadn't seen worse sides of humanity. He had, many times. But this wasn't the same as a case. He couldn't simply solve, clean up, and move on. There was no logic or pristine order to survival in this barren place, and if he had the luxury of thinking of anything save the twisting hunger in his stomach or the lancing pain in his fingers too long in the cold, then he would decry it as boring. Snow and death and death and snow and not even a good mystery to tie it together.

Save one.

Why was he here.

He stumbled inside the shelter still shivering, happy to find Danny still there. The temperature difference in the shelter versus the outside was extremely welcome.

"Danny," was all he said, in case the man was asleep and cared to know that Sherlock was still alive. He didn't spend any more time speaking, however, moving straight for his sleeping bag to wrestle it open.
 

[ooc: we're going to tag a bit before a crevasse opens up beneath their shelter and they both fall in, but anyone who wants to thread with sherlock or danny or both in the crevasse can go ahead and tag in!]

Who| Grey, Katurian, Sherlock, and Wesker
What| Alliances take a turn.
Where| Not far from Grey's and Katurian's camp.
When| The second night.
Warnings| Death, cannibalism, mentions of abuse.

( Read more... )

Who| Danny, Sherlock and YOU!
What| Finishing up the shelter, dealing with whatever, getting to know each other. Running into people.
Where| An hours walk some random direction away from the Cornucopia.
When| Some unknown time after the cornucopia.. the timeline is fluidish....
Warnings| Danny wlil probably fire off his mouth, Sherlock will be an ass. Whatever comes at them. So, in summary/warnings might change. :-D


( Danny's quiet for once. Holy crap.  )

Usually, the tribute's outfits for the arena aren't accessorized. But today, the last thing their stylists hand them before the countdown begins is a pair of heavy black glasses, polarized and thick-lensed. They look at odds with the thick, winter gear they've been outfitted in.


It's a long rise to the surface today, inside their individual little tubes, much longer than usual. They start to feel the cold only about halfway up, and to hear the wind. It howls across the surface as they reach it, pressing all of their clothes flat against their bodies. And the reason for the glasses is immediately apparent.


20 - 19 - 18


The sky is white. The ground is white (and gray and black and blue but mostly white), the far-off sea is blinding silver. Everything in sight flings light around, fractures it into scintilating rainbows and sheer white beams of reflection. It is strong, cruel light, and it bears no heat at all. The surface is so cold that the little metal trackers ache in everyone's arm, and the countdown has to continue at a deafening volume to be heard.


 12 - 11 - 10 -


The circle of silver pedestals is the only regular shape to be seen. All else is fractured and split, the most uneven footing imaginable. And at the center of the circle, the Cornucopia sports icycles hanging from its lip, almost to the pile of supplies tucked all neatly inside its mouth.


4


3


2


There's a lull in the wind just as the gong sounds, letting it peal out across the frozen glacier, and echo off the high rock cliffs in the distance. And the ice answers, with a loud crack that seems to come from miles down.


Let the Games begin.