Who| Anna Morasca and Gaila of Orion
What| DEATH! And death-like symptoms, because we all have to die sometime, right?
Where| Desert Arena
When| Backdated to the end of Week 7
Warnings/Notes| Violence, blood, language, possible triggering content (mentions of rape) below the cut.

Seven weeks.

Over seven weeks in the desert heat, barely covered by her costume, and somehow Anna Morasca has managed to survive alone. Thanks to a lucky score at the cornucopia early on in her time, she's been able to stay semi-hydrated and well-fed throughout by using her supplies to hunt the local wildlife for food while using her tent and sleeping bag to fend off the cold nights and give her shade in the blistering sunlight.

Still, she's been burned intensely and it's only now beginning to darken her skin by three shades and she's thinking this could be skin cancer if she wasn't being revived at the end. With her recent shelter having been destroyed by the giant... sandworm thing... she's been slowly crossing the desert in search of a new place to camp out when she starts hearing things.

( Man once sang to me, look at you saving the world on your own )

Who| Eliot, Parker, Lindsey, Anna, and Chris
What| Death party
Where| the Cornucopia in the candy Arena
When| the first half hour of the first day
Warnings/Notes| death, death, and injury

( Are you, are you coming to the tree? )

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....

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.]

Who| Parker, Lindsey, & That woman Eliot's sleeping with Anna
What| Lindsey is the evil twin.
Where| Edge of Fantasyland
When| Early week 6
Warnings/Notes| Lindsey's going to kill Parker. Parker won't go easily.

With Eliot being gone, the number of people Parker trusts in this arena is down to 0. Still, she's without shelter, and is skirting along the edge of Fantasyland. There's too much weirdness for her to actually step in this section of the park.

She's a bit scuffed from an earlier altercation, and Parker's getting hungry. Also, she's still yet to sleep in the last 57 hours. It's too bad she can't have the short naps Eliot does. She needs to learn that skill.

While not looking for anyone she knows, she may not be as quick on the uptake as she usually is.

Who| Anyone who replied hereThe house hasn't stood the test of time well.

All the rope bridges are gone, and the stairs aren't doing well either, sagging and rotted wood. The platforms are in a bit better shape, though some stagger under the weight of their fake props and the remains of figures that once decorated the attraction.

Although anything truly useful had been taken sometime before this arena by other hands looking to survive, enough useless props still clung to make the nature of the location obvious. And even without the bridges and stairs, the solid tree had plenty of grips to scramble up.

The 6 bags were spread throughout the platform, made of aged looking net and rope. Within could be found a butterfly knife, a flint to make fire, a length of rope, two cans of food, and drops to purify water. A valuable bag to grab.

( The winners and losers. )

Who|  Anyone who replied here
In the remains of a little pavilion, with broken teacups scattered around the remains of a fence at the edge, a tea party is set up. 

At one end of the table sits a white placemat with a white satin bag, neatly tied up with pretty white ribbons. And the other end is the same display, in black. Along each side there are 5 a piece, one for each district, in their colors.

The table is also covered with teapots, contained for tea and sugar... however all of them have covers. Covers that are moving, being pushed up from within by a tiny creature with bright eyes and sharp teeth. As soon as the first tribute touches one of the bags the pots burst open and dozens of small, mice muttation pour out, with mouths full of sharp teeth and paws with razor sharp claws on them.

Anyone who makes it away with one of the pretty satin bags will find it contains a large thermostat of tea, 4 petit fours, a small locket containing a small amount of shimmer medicine-about enough for one wound, and a sturdy hat pin, with a very sharp point at one end. Although both the tea and cakes are very sugary, they are also very filling-they will last a few days if rationed well. 

( The winners and losers. )

WHO: Anna Morasca, Eliot Spencer, possibly Lindsey McDonald and Parker, open to others
WHAT: Anna takes a moment to "alter" her uniform and finally meets up with the man she's been looking for.
WHEN: Day 2, various times of the day
WHERE: Tomorrowland, near Space Mountain
WARNINGS: Rampant sarcasm; possible violence, swearing, partial nudity... y'know, the usual.

While avoiding the Cornucopia may have been a good idea at first, the rumble in Anna's stomach made her think twice. Luckily, her search for Eliot and Parker was fruitful (literally) and she settled near a fruit tree that gave her both an excellent vantage point as well as cover. After eating, she stripped down to her slip and boots, draping her cape from the tree so she could get to work.

Anyone wandering by this particular corner is privy to a view of Anna in her slip, seated atop a large rock, trying to cut the seams on the skirt of her dress with a piece of sharpened steel she found inside of Space Mountain.

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.))

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.