Who | Pepper, Danny, and Donny
What| death by Turtle?
Where | Desert arena.
When | Week 4
Warnings/Notes | chicken or death?  Sorry all out of Chicken.

( I won't suffer be broken..... )

Who| John, Danny, Pepper and Joan?
What| Wandering the desert...
Where| In the desert arena. Justa wandering
When| Week 3.
Warnings/Notes| Danny meets peeps, drags Pepper along with him.

He didn't know how long they'd been walking, well, wandering was more like it. He had orders, or well, sorta orders. It was a good idea in any case, more experienced people to help him with Pepper. He didn't know how the hell he was going to find him, but he was sure as hell gonna try.

"See anything?"

The days had been wearing on him, lack of water, of food. He needed help and he knew it. Hopefully this was the right direction.

 Who| Pepper, Danny and open
What| Her wondering around the arena for the most part
Where| various placed
When| Day two and on of the arena
Warnings| violence, screaming like a girl (Catch all for interactions)

( holding ground at the Gates of Hell. )

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| Everyone in the arena
What| Even more reasons to hate the Capitol.
Where| Everywhere.
When| 4 am.
Warnings/Notes| Any group is being targeted to be separated. Everyone should be tagging someone they are not with, as well as those they are, as the Gamemakers are driving them apart. (You can feel free to search for, and possibly find your buddies later)


Once upon a time, when this place was a much happier place, fireworks would light up the sky, delighting children and leaving everyone with a magical feeling in their hearts.

This will not leave anyone with a magical feeling.

It was much later than a fireworks show would have ever gone. Closer to dawn then not, when anyone who could rest, even those far from it, would have finally managed to drift off.

It started with a strange, warbling music. For those familiar with this place it feels wrong, close to something they would connect with this show, but wrong. Distorted. Stumbling through a few bars, it starts to peter out just in time for a high pitches whistling.

And then the first firework explodes into the ground in a shower of bright colors, lighting up the castle. There is a moment of silence as the sparks fade.

And then all hell breaks loose.

Whoever is controlling the fireworks obviously have goals in mind. The strikes are tight, controlled. They are herding. Targeting the groups, the pairs, driving them apart.

The fireworks aren't made to kill (although a direct hit may), but they burn flesh, and leave anyone who looks at them too close momentarily blinded. Ever one is a shrieker, loud, louder then the shrillest fourth of July fireworks, screaming toward their targets. The arena is suddenly a shrill battleground, full of blindingly bright colors.

Th whole attack doesn't last longer than 20 minutes, petering off as the divisions have been deemed enough. A few squeal through the night here and there and then finally, blissfully silent.

Who| Danny, Tony, Aunamee
What| Tony does not win Arena 05, quite obviously.
When| Backdated - Week 4
Where| Ice fields of doom.
Warnings| Murder and sads.

( It's seemed like weeks that he's been stuck down in that crevice....  )

Who| Anyone still left alive at the last day of the arena
What| The finale
Where| The whole arena
When| The last day of the arena
Warnings/Notes| I'm so sorry this is late. If this doesn't work into your threads, just handwave you died before this event.

When the weapons had been left at the cornucopia, before anyone had time to circle back, the ice has crept over them, sealing them beneath the ice, deep enough that their presence wasn't even detectable from the surface. At dawn that day, the ice had melted away, leaving only the weapons bases still stuck into the ice, the blades and staffs protruding from the icy lake surrounding them into the bright sunlight.

In addition to the scattered weapons that had remained at the cornucopia, there was an arsenal of new weapons, swords, blades, spears...more than enough to go around.

But the invitation to this feast wasn't a passive one. As the sun rose, the groaning and creaking of the iceberg gave way to action, putting the earlier collapse to shame. Huge chunks began to break apart, some sliding into the sea, some opening up gaping crevasses that went much farther than the ones woven through the arena, ones that went straight down to hard rock underneath.

The sea rushed into these to meet the land in unpredictable surges, as the chunks of ice slipping into the sea create a series of small tidal waves.

But this collapse isn't random, not at all. It's pushing all the remaining tributes together, right into the middle.

Right to the weapons.

Happy Hunger Games.

WHO| Tony & Danny
WHAT| Who the heck are you, anyway!?
WHEN| After the conclusion of this post
WHERE| On ice.
WARNINGS/NOTES| Probably bad language. Because look who is involved.

The cold has made Tony twitchy and irritable and goddamn has he never before missed the smog-choked southern California skies of home ever like he is right now. And these are on his list of good things. His frostbitten fingers are burning with pain and he can feel his heart beat on every single numbed fingertip as though he'd just taken a blowtorch to them. The burning cold comes rushing in in bitter painful breaths and his face is so numb it hurts. And now? He has this to deal with.

An echo of a canon fire still vibrated somewhere down in his eardrums, and the aftermath has left him with this guy, and he had half a can of tuna left and he doesn't want to admit to himself how much he doesn't want to share it even though by now, his own selfishness should hardly surprise him. 

"So what the hell was all that?" he's asking the guy anyway, and maybe he should remember his name but he's never been particularly troubled to learn most of them anyway. But whatever. He's asking because he's there and doesn't seem to currently be at Tony's throat and Tony doesn't dare go for his and hope to come out better for it.

After all, if there is anything he's learned in this place it is that when in doubt: smile for the camera.

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?]