WHO | What I am now calling the Dream Team (Ariadne and Don) and Sasuke Uchiha.
WHAT | It's Sasuke's time to die.
WHEN | Day 9
WHERE | T6
WARNINGS / NOTES | death

She and Don had been allied for a while now, and Ariadne was getting very comfortable having him at her back. Almost as comfortable as she was getting killing people. That was a disturbing thought, one that she would have to dwell on once they weren't in the Arena.

For now, they were hunting together - it was safer than the alternative - moving through the brush quietly, checking some of their traps as they went. It was too much to ask that they were totally alone; there were just a few of the Tributes left, but Ariadne had no doubt that they would all be seeking each other out at this point. She was ready, all the same, her ruined half-spear in one hand as she led the way.

WHO | Draco Malfoy and Sasuke Uchiha
WHAT | The Sad and Unfortunate Life of Draco Malfoy :(
WHEN | Late Day Six
WHERE | Q5
WARNINGS/ NOTES | Death



He wasn't starving. Not yet at least.

Water and food were hard to come by. It was anyone's guess what was and wasn't poisonous and he had to resort to his survival training from the Academy to actually get water. The water that surrounded the islands did nothing for his thirst and in fact, only made it worse.

During the day, he took shelter where he could, avoiding any tribute he could since his first encounter. Now though he was getting desperate for food. Desperate for anything that didn't immediately make him vomit it back up.

So that evening, when he spotted a blonde tribute in the distance he bristeled. He was in no condition for a fight. But maybe. Maybe they had food. His fingers danced on the hilt of his machete, and a smirk spread across his face.

Now or never. He wasn't going to play the game, but he wasn't going to go down without a fight or die withering away on this damned island.

WHO| Tate Langdon & You!
WHAT| Trying to leaving Cornucopia island
WHEN| After first night, afternoon
WHERE| E-5 to Q-4
WARNING/NOTES| None at the moment, but is open to attacks - feel free to mess him up, or start an alliance!

Tate felt like he was in Rambo having to find a way to carry the machete between his teeth in order to swim with it. He felt like he looked ridiculous, but it wasn't really the time or place to care how you looked. All that mattered was survival and taking out the other tributes. He couldn't afford to waste time as he quickly got into the water and worked to swim towards the larger island, staying by the reefs and not getting in too deep.

His head kept turning and watching for other tributes as he approached the new shore. Although he couldn't feel the temperature, the water would weigh down his clothes, causing him to stop and wring them out, stripping his shirt in the process. He was content when the machete would sit well hanging from his belt.

For some, this is the third visit to the arena. They know the tension by now, the electricity to the air as they're taken from the Capitol by hovercraft, the windows blacked out to preserve the element of surprise. Perhaps they are beginning to form rituals of anticipation or dread on these quiet, somber flights. New tributes have a tracking device implanted in their arm while old ones have theirs reactivated, both in movements so swift they'd be easy to miss or to mistake for each other.

After the craft, left alone in a cold, steel-lined underground space with their stylists, each tribute is dressed quickly; This time, the costume is a lightweight body-suit, pale green and mesh-like, with a thickly padded belt for flotation. By the time they are dispatched into the clear tubes, perhaps they will have noticed the sound. Quiet but steady, a regular booming like timed, distant explosions, the sound penetrates the underground station like a heartbeat as the tubes all rise up.

25 - 24 - 23

The steady thunder crescendos as they reach the surface, rise into the dawning light of a blinding equatorial day, and as the tubes drop from around them, the source, the unending waves of open ocean fling salt spray into their faces, chilling skin right through the thin body-suits.

20 - 19 - 18 - 17 - 16

The Cornucopia lies half-buried in white sand between outcroppings of reddish rock on the small island, barely big enough for the wide circle of tributes. Scattered around it are the weapons, the supplies, the brightly-colored bags they've been told to expect. Beyond the sandy islet, the reef stretches out, low-tide baring long stretches of it like a path through the sea, arching around to the other islands.

11- 10 - 9 - 8

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

5 - 4

3

2

The sound of the gong, long and clear, rolls out above the roar of the waves. 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 needs 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.

Characters on reserve have until Wednesday, August 8th to be eligible to tag into this arena and this post, but anyone who did not sign up for the Cornucopia by Saturday, August 4th will be handwaved as having not not been part of the Cornucopia battle.]