The Tributes are taken early in the morning, most of their support teams seeming in good cheer as they dress them in warm clothes, getting them to their tubes. There is obvious comfort in the familiar for the prep teams, and they chatter with, or in some cases, over the heads of their Tributes as they get them ready and load them up.

20

19

18…

If the Tributes could see the area they are passed up into, they would see a deeply overgrown, dilapidated town green, with a large bandstand rotting away in the middle. The spoils of the cornucopia are not gathered in one spot, instead scattered throughout the thigh high grass and weeds around the town green.

Around the edge of the green, the old business stand a silent sentry, looming out of the fog as it thins and winds into them, providing much desired cover.

8

7

6…

But the Tributes cannot see the ground around them. The fog, thicker even than it will be in the rest of the arena, makes the world small around them. The sound of the count down echoes strangely, the tributes seeming too close as the fog brings sounds of their breath, their coughing, the snap of twigs under their feet right to ears of the other Tributes. But with the fog bringing visibility down to only a few feet, it's hard to tell what is a true danger, and what is only the fog playing tricks on them,.

3

2

1

The gong rings out, and the countdown's voice announces "the Arena is now open". The Games have begun.

Who| Some and Susannah (and Cuthbert?), and an open thread before if anyone wants to catch him tracking.
What| Some's last days in the Arena, and his death.
Where| Various.
When| Week 6
Warnings/Notes| Discussion of maneating. Graphic descriptions of injuries. Mercy-killing. Some will only track humans, but anyone can come across him doing so.

Open

A sixth week. Some rarely made it so far. There was something, after all, to the tactic of simply holing up and only venturing out and back in short excursions, or from hideout to hideout. He missed his spot on the whale model; it had been almost comfortable. It had also been almost directly below the volcano.

But he thought about shelter less and less, now. And food, more and more. Of those left in the arena, he knew more or less how many were human. He found himself, when he was near exhaustion and his will was weakest, casting around for their scents, creeping on all eight to follow them while conserving strength. It felt good to simply follow, catching scent off the floor, finding things his prey (no, not prey, he was not a predator) had touched. He would catch himself, sooner or later, and barricade himself into a corner to rest, but before then, nearly every day, there was a period when he could almost have imagined himself hunting in a pack with his siblings, as he had never done at home.


For Susannah

By the end of the week, there had been near calls. Some knew he should cut this all short. But he hadn't quite worked up the will yet. He was being still more careful tonight, with a scrap of stolen clothing from the wax-people floor tied across his face to mask distracting scents as he carefully, quietly slipped onto the darkened Fifth Floor. His claws had gotten long, and he walked carefully, silently so as not to click, making a weaving path for one of the water fountains.

Who: Terezi, Some
What: Terezi picks a fight with Some, it doesn't go as planned.
When: Mid-week 5
Where: Fifth floor
Warnings: Violence, etc. No death.

( That's what they all say. )

Who| Carlos and Some
What| After the storm inside calms, the storm outside begins, and Carlos leaves the no-longer-safe planetarium to check out the display on muttations in hopes of learning something about Capitol technology. There is very little sunlight, and aside from the lightning, it is very dark.
Where| Floor 4
When| Early week 3, before the volcano.
Warnings/Notes| None so far.

( Read more... )

Who| Pruna, Sandy and Some
What| The volcano goes off, Some is a hero
Where| Third floor
When| Wednesday of week 3
Warnings/Notes| Volcanoes, fire, liquid nitrogen, burns, angry small hurt murder children

( A great hero )

Who| The Psiioniic & The Initiate || The Psiioniic and YOU.
What| Psychic trolls and their kooky powers, and the benefits of telekinetics and precognition. (Or, masks are Really Great.) Plus, precognition makes hiding spots useless and the Psiioniic doesn't want to kill, he just wants to watch the world burn.
Where| Third floor, specifically the gem hall, and then various places around the museum.
When| Middle of the second week.
Warnings/Notes| PRECOGNITION, obviously, though it essentially boils down to "knowing the details of how people die", Creepiness, mentions of violence and murder and other going-ons in the Arena. Maybe someone will actually get injured.

( together they explored the stars for thousands of years )

Who| Some and you!
What| Trying to help or hide, and winding up in a mask.
Where| Various, mostly the second floor.
When| Through Week 2
Warnings/Notes| Probable mentions of maneating, violence.


Some's primary advantage, to his knowledge, is his ability to climb. The second floor has a high, shadowy ceiling, and despite the crowded, uneasy feeling of all of those models of men and creatures, he feels his best chances are there. The life-size model of the sea monster labelled "Blue Whale" provides him with a stable platform, high and suspended on wires. He's made himself a shelter there, half dug into the material of the model, half-reinforced by trays scavenged from the cafeteria, all bound together by his sponsor-given wire. If he'd known they were bright orange, he might not have used them, but up in the high shadows, they still make him feel safe.


Well, safer.


But he can't just hide. He won't be the winner, he knows he won't. He doesn't want to, he still tells himself. So he can either die now, go back to the Capitol, and watch it all go on and on, or he can leave this shelter, find someone in need of help, and help them. He's strong and stable, not hungry. And that's good. It means he has more time than usual.


When he thinks of leaving the dim second floor, he realizes that for once, he can be better prepared for the light. There was a display he noted earlier - a little glass case with a carved wooden mask, its eyes deeply shadowed by a fringe of stitched-in grass. It's the work of a moment to pry open the case with his knife, and he ties the mask around his neck on another length of wire.

[[Some's dead-set on being useful. So anyone who seems to need help; food, rescue, first aid, he'll try to render whatever he can. He's also a big dark many-toothed mantis creature slinking about, so feel free to be spooked and attack! I'm open to absolutely anything.]]

Who| Kevin and OTA!
What| Kevin has just been thrown into the arena. He has only the faintest idea of what's going on.
Where| Wandering the halls! Pick a location for your encounter for him in the subject.
When| Week 1
Warnings/Notes| None exactly yet, but watch this space for edits. Kevin has literally only the understanding that his job is to be the last person left alive, and...he's dedicated to his job, so. He also wants to gather some information, though, so not all threads have to devolve into violence! Just let me know.

( Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to lie down at your door! )

Who| Joan and Some and OTA
What| Joan is hiding out, but her options are limited, so she's bound to be discovered.
Where| Sixth floor
When| Week 1
Warnings/Notes| None yet.

The information kiosk was a counter up against one of the walls. It had glossy, brightly colored pamphlets that told visitors who each featured wax Tribute was. Very flashy and utterly useless. What was useful, however, was the space beneath the counter. There wasn't much of it, but Joan was small and it was the one spot that afforded her any sort of cover. If a Tribute stood at the right angle, they could see her, but it was the best she could get. She couldn't run. Couldn't even walk. But she could hide

She waited there while Sherlock and John explored. Her leg was immobilized by a makeshift splint, but they had no pain killers, no anti-inflammatory medicines, not even an ice pack. Her knee was swollen, and pulsing with near unbearable pain. So she spent that time alone in hiding with her eyes closed, taking slow, deep, measured breaths, trying her best to just let the pain wash over her.

The Tributes are woken up early for this Arena, and switched from whatever sleeping attire they're currently in to a set of pajamas, each designed for the individual in questions. Women wear onesies, and most of the men wear two-pieces, but other than that any similarities are at random - the outfits are in all sorts of colors and patterns.

The floor of the helicopter taking them to their Arena location, and of the underground entrance to the tubes that hoist them to the surface, will feel cold under their bare feet.

Rather than bringing them to sunlight, like the tubes have in the past, instead the Tributes are presented to a dark concrete ceiling in a badly-lit parking lot. Fluorescent lights do little to illuminate the cavernous space.

The countdown begins, announced as if from far away.

20

19

18…

The Cornucopia, a ghastly thing carved from stone and concrete, sits at the center of a pattern of white and yellow lines reminiscent of spots for parked cars. The painted lines create a sort of spoked wheel, providing lanes for the Tributes leading to the prizes at the center. Some of the more unfortunate Tributes will find the concrete architecture has placed pillars in their lanes.

8

7

6…

Six parked cars lie around the outskirts of the huge lot, barely visible in the dim lighting. Glowing exit signs on two opposite sides of the chamber announce where Tributes should go to escape the bloodbath. Elevator doors are perched beneath them.

3

2

1

The gong rings out, and the countdown's voice announces "the Arena is now open". The Games have begun.