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.

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.

Who| Wyatt and... you?
What| Planning his next step
When| The day after the Cornucopia
Where| Let's say S4
Warnings/Notes| None

He'd survived the Cornucopia, and the subsequent swim to the next island. The cut on his arm had been dealt with (hopefully the salt water had cleaned it well enough to keep infection at bay) and the long night, spent just inside the tree line, had been uneventful if restless.

Now, with the sun already on its ascent through the startlingly blue sky, Wyatt stood in the sand, looking out at the rolling waves. Hunger was a gentle itch, scratching at the back of his gut that he could ignore for awhile yet, but thirst, well, that was going to be problem. And soon.

Mustache quirking thoughtfully, he ran a hand over his hair and sighed.

Shoud he follow the beach? Or head deeper into the trees?

WHO| Everyone going back to the Cornucopia
WHAT| Picking on the leftovers. Who lives? Who dies? Who looks exceptionally smashing in their Tribute unforms?
WHEN| Two days in
WHERE| The Cornucopia.
WARNING/NOTES| Violence! Possible salty language!

( Cornucopia 2: Electric Boogaloo )

WHO| Eliot, Momoko, Ariadne, and whoever they run into on the supply run
WHAT| Supply run to the Cornucopia
WHEN| Shortly after the bloodbath
WHERE| J15
WARNING/NOTES| Possible violence

Eliot looked out the doorway at the Cornucopia as the cannon sounded. He frowned slightly. The area around the Cornucopia was finally empty except for the bodies of the dead. Supplies still littered the ground, including most of the bags. Only four dead and most of the supplies left behind? Something wasn't right. He couldn't see in the deeper craters from his angle. If he'd been at the Cornucopia longer, he would have used that to his advantage.

He had noticed while waiting for the gong to sound that there were no weapons, just supplies. His chair leg would do for now but, at some point, he needed something better. A memory flashed through his mind. His mentor hadn't been able to tell him much, be he had said that if he stepped off the pedestal early, it would explode. If he could open it somehow, he might be able to get the explosive out. And there were 24 platforms. That decided it. He had to take the risk.

Eliot looked around the room. The chair leg was sturdy enough, but he had to pry the platforms out of the ground or open them, he'd need something equally strong but much thinner. He smiled to himself as he saw a piece of metal playing on the window sill. He walked over and pocketed it.

He turned to the two girls. "You two can stay here if you want," he said. "I need to go back now that everyone's gone. We need more supplies than this."

There is a different tension in the air. This is the first time anyone has been returning to the arena, and it changes things. For the tributes that know, for those prepping them. It's all under the surface, waiting. The prep goes the same as before.

The tributes are taken from the Training Center, one by one, and placed into the hovercraft that will take them on a long, tense ride to the Arena. New tributes have a tracking device implants in their arm, old tributes have their's activated, a move so similar, so swift it would be hard to notice.

Left alone with their stylist, each tribute is dressed quickly, light colors, cotton fabric, sturdy boots. Nothing waterproof, and nothing that will help against cold, dark nights. Then they are set into the clear tubes, and go up to whatever waits above while the voice counts down.

25 - 24 - 23 - 22 - 21

It late evening, but the summer sun is still high and the day is hot over the ruined city that rises up around them. The air shimmers with it, hot, heavy, pressing down on the tributes.

18 - 17 - 16 - 15

The cornucopia, the only bright, new thing in sight besides the pedestals they stand on shimmer brilliantly in the sun, all the life saving supplies scattered around in, tempting and deadly.

9 - 8 - 7

They've all been warned, don't step off your pedestal early.

4 - 3

2

The sound of the gong releasing them echos into the empty streets. Let the games begin.


[OOC: Don't forget the OOC Arena post, especially those of you running for the Cornucopia. Every single one of you ought to 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.]