Who| All those on the liberation mission and all those being made to fight against them.
What| The liberation of District 10.
Where| District 10.
When| This week.
Warnings/Notes| War, violence, death. Please warn for more in headers.

Fields of grass are all that can be seen in any direction for at least an hour while the hovercraft come in. These fields are broken only by the occasional color change (marking different kinds of grass and even the occasional wheat field) and a farmstead every now and again. It’s easy to see that the animals here far outnumber the people as it’s more likely to see a grazing horse or cow or even something stranger like llamas and elephant before one would ever notice a human being. The temperature is mild in this season, not too cool in the shade and not too hot under the sun, although as the hovercraft come in and the people of the main city come into view, quite a few are dressed in long pants and sleeves, their clothing worn and dirty from hours of hard labor. In wide open fields like these there are only a few groves of trees to park a hovercraft out of sight behind. It’s one of these far off groves the craft lands. It would be a shame to have to hoof it all the way into the city.

If you’re from the Capitol, this doesn’t apply, as they can land wherever is most convenient. For those in the rebel forces... well just be glad someone knew what to expect and has procured more than a few horses to carry you into town.

District Ten has always been overlooked by the Capitol. A large district by landmass alone, its people are perceived to be just as domestic as the livestock they tend to, so despite whatever political climate it may hold, rebellion is not seen as a concern here. Consequently, those on the rebellion’s side will find they’re the first ones on the scene.

They’re greeted by friendly, if not guarded, faces. These are people who stick to their own community, their own families, but they’re not an unfriendly group. They know who you are and why you’re here. They’ve said for ages that the Capitol needed to go down, that something ought to be done about Snow and his Games, but no one ever paid them any mind. Probably because all that talk may be there, but it’s only ever been that. No one expects an uprising from the countryfolk.

Being so laid back, there's really not much in the way of graffiti. No one particularly has anything to say that has been said and shrugged off. One might hear laughs and mutters about the compliance video or a morose mention of Bison and the call to fight. There are also others pointing out that this is just the way things work.

Even the peacekeeping forces here are limited and laid back, not nearly as strict as might be found in other districts, but they are still there, so it’s best to keep your heads down as you move through the town.

As for how the Capitol forces are greeted upon their arrival, well, that all depends on how successful those rebels are.

The war continues, and in the back of everyone's mind is a familiar phrase; may the odds be ever in your favor.

Who| All those on the liberation mission and all those being made to fight against them.
What| The liberation of District 8.
Where| District 8.
When| This week.
Warnings/Notes| War, violence, death. Please warn for more in headers.

District 8 is a dirty district. That's one of the first things you notice as you step out. District 13 was underground, but the filtered air was clean, at least. And the air outside of it was crisp and clear. But here? The air is weighed down with pollution and smog. For those perceptive individuals, there's a tension in the air, as well. A feeling that something soon was going to snap.

The woman in charge is wrapped up in various bits of garments that had probably been colorful at one time. But she carries herself with an absolute air of authority, and the way she speaks is crisp, knowledgeable. This is Commander Paylor, and she's quick to order around the new people, let them know what the situation is as she takes them to their current hideout.

Paylor tells them that District 8 had been one of the first districts to openly rebel against the Capitol, but District 13 hadn't been able to send aid until now (and she doesn't sound particularly impressed by this). As they walk, there's graffiti over the walls--the phrase 'Mere'lin' is repeated in multiple places not to mention such phrases as From ev'ry mountainside Let freedom ring, so we can go home, for peace, and we are already free.

This District will be one of the most enthusiastic to see the rebels. The people of District 8 are ready and willing to get started, almost bloodthirsty in some regards when it comes to taking out the Capitol. They were among the first to rebel, and they're eager to see their efforts finally be rewarded.

The majority of the pro-Capitol forces there are either peacekeepers, or the wealthy, some even Capitolites who had moved to District 8 to own factors and take advantage of the loopholes extended to Capitolites. They hold the wealth and power of the district, and they're frustrated and angry that their workers have decided to try to rebel against them--and that the Capitol isn't helping to what they feel is its peak capacity.

The war continues, and in the back of everyone's mind is a familiar phrase; may the odds be ever in your favor.

Who| All those on the liberation mission and all those being made to fight against them.
What| The liberation of District 9.
Where| District 9
When| This week.
Warnings/Notes| War, violence, death. Please warn for more in headers.

By now, even the most remote and isolated Districts are well aware of the chaos ravaging Panem. District Nine, golden with wheat and blinding with its expansive blue horizon, is quiet, and yet nothing about it feels safe; the stillness is less like a serene oasis than like tall grass that cannot help but contain lions prowling. An air raid siren was going off an hour ago at the sight of hovercrafts, driving everyone inside. No one is outside working the fields or traveling the dirt roads to the hub of the District, which sits in the center like a spider in its web or the axel of a wheel. Displaced Capitolite and Districter both are hunkered down within the corrugated-metal buildings.

The air is hot, and once outside the hovercrafts one finds that what was previously mistaken for silence is in fact the monotonous hum and whine of insects, too continuous and amorphous to really qualify as actual sound but certainly not the absence of it. The sun glares down from a cloudless sky. The earth was tilled until an hour ago, and many of the fields are only partially plowed. Some still have farm equipment left out. Mills and water towers sit awkwardly at the edge of the fields like sentinels or oversized dominos.

The crops stretch out to the horizon, ranging from waist-height to taller than the average full-grown man, depending on the breed. The sheer variety is astonishing, the quality even moreso; ears of corn are as large as toddlers and the wheat is a flawless golden color, thanks to Capitol technology and genetic modification. There are no pests, as most of the plants have a natural pesticide that is fatal upon ingestion and only removable with sprays available to importers to the Capitol, to prevent theft by the hungry employees.

There are crop circles, many in the Capitol’s logo and a few stamped with the insignias of local Capitol-run businesses. It does not reflect the sentiments of the natives but rather an attempt by those clinging to their echelons to enforce a mindset in vain. The propaganda has largely been repelled from the souls of the people here like bugs to a windshield. Only the rarest bit of graffiti may be spotted saying "All is not lost" and "you are weak" both of which have clear attempts to be scrubbed away.

The war continues, and in the back of everyone's mind is a familiar phrase; may the odds be ever in your favor.

WHO| Everyone
WHAT| Power Chip Liberation plot; and you get superpowers, and YOU get superpowers...
WHEN| After D7 breakout
WHERE| District Six, Distrixt Thirteen, the Capitol
WARNINGS| Death, cannibalism.

The manufacturing plant in District Six takes nearly a day to get to for the District Thirteen soldiers; there's word that the Capitol has invested in better radar and anti-aircraft technology, so the hovercraft has to stay low, barely above the line of trees and then, once in the flat desert of the District, only feet above the ground and moving slowly enough not to kick up a visible trail of dust.

When they spy the line of anti-aircraft guns ringing the plant, the soldiers know that they made the right choice in not rushing. The plant is guarded well beyond what a normal factory here in District Six would be, which is a dead giveaway that they've come to the right one. Thankfully, the hacking team back home has carved out a small blind space that the combat team can sneak in through, and from that point the first wave of Peacekeepers defending the command system aren't effective in keeping the soldiers from the controls.

It's only after that that things begin to go wrong. The remaining Peacekeepers in the cramped, busy plant full of machinery and materials start attacking with powers that certainly didn't come from Panem. The factory workers, innocents, run for cover behind assemblylines and hide under tables, and on the second floor of the three-story building they take leaps out the window for safety. Chaos reigns. Holes are blown in the walls; shrapnel flits through the air and takes blood and flesh with it; Gowan Stevens, an unimpressive-looking man with rolled-up sleeves, grabs something from the control panel and a gun from one of his security guards and runs, protected by the mania around him.

Every offworld Tribute will be able to feel it - either the return of their familiar powers, or a rush of intuition and power that they never before had but that seems as easy to come to as riding a bike. From District Thirteen to the Capitol, the rush of power comes heady and wild - and just in time, because disaster strikes both in District Six and in the city.

Who: Ermac and James Sunderland
What: James meets a rather grisly end
When: Week 5
Where: Rivendell
Warnings: Death, violence, and gore

( This isn't going to be pretty... )

Who| James and Open!
What| Surviving the Arena and meeting a District kid
Where| Various places
When| Weeks 2 and 3
Warnings/Notes| Silent Hill spoilers, self harm idealization, basically this guy is screwed up

( Are you sure the only you is you? )

( Closed to Rotor - 2 0 4 8 6 3 )

For the majority of you, this has become a familiar morning routine. Escorts come to pick up their Tributes and Stylists quickly see to setting them up with the bland and thin grey suits, much to most of their dismay. You'll not hear a word said in complaint though. The staff has gotten the threat to them loud and clear. Only the daring will be willing to offer even a mere "good luck". Peacekeepers quickly collect Tributes to send them off into the launch tubes. If you're from the Districts, it may be one of the last things you ever see.

What everyone rises up to is not much better a sight. It's a war zone out here in every sense. Those native to Panem will recognize the sight before them, having seen it every year in a propaganda tape. The wreckage of District thirteen. The Cornucopia sits at the very center. Offworlders might recognize some of the weapons there, and if not, then they'll certainly be able to spot some familiar scenes far on the outer edges of the arena, perhaps even a beast or two they know well from their worlds.



It's muddy and damp and there's plenty of wreckage to cut one's self upon no matter where it is Tributes run. The Cornucopia tempts the Tributes in for its bloodbath. Districter and Offworlder alike, there will only be one winner.



The gong rings out and a voice announces; “The Arena is now open”. The Tributes are free to make their choice; to run or to fight. The Games have begun.

~~~

By the end of the night, one child from each District will have their face shone up into the sky, the first twelve killed at the Cornucopia. Only twelve to go...

Who| James Sunderland and Zed
What| James is getting killed by Zed...what a glittery death
Where| The Church
When| Backdated to Sunday Week 4
Warnings/Notes| Blood, Guts, language and Pyramid Head mentions...fun times!

( Opening into nightmares. )

Who| Anna and you!
What| Week 2 catch-all!
Where| All over the Arena--the castle banquet, the village, the forest, etc.
When| week 2 of the arena.
Warnings/Notes| violence, most likely! Anna will be actively seeking out weakened/unsuspecting Tributes and making more of an attempt to do the whole murder game thing. Hit me up if you'd like a prompt!

( and i'm hungry like the wolf )

Who| James Sunderland and open!
What| Week 1 and 2 Catchall, as Sunderland makes his way to the Castle
Where| The Field, the Village, The Forest and then the Castle
When| Weeks 1 and 2
Warnings/Notes| Spoilers to SH2

( This Sign, Can You Read It?  )

( I'll Wait Forever... )


( If You'll Just Come To Me. )