Panem Events (
etcircenses) wrote in
thearena2014-01-18 02:35 pm
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Entry tags:
- ! arena 09,
- aunamee,
- cassandra marko,
- commander shepard,
- harley quinn,
- joan watson,
- karkat vantas,
- matthew "punchy" o'connor,
- sigma klim,
- terezi pyrope,
- the grand highblood,
- the signless,
- wyatt earp,
- ✘ barbara gordon,
- ✘ beck,
- ✘ brainiac 5,
- ✘ carlos the scientist,
- ✘ cinderella,
- ✘ courfeyrac,
- ✘ cuthbert allgood,
- ✘ danny fenton,
- ✘ deanna winchester,
- ✘ diana ladris,
- ✘ donatello,
- ✘ dr. holiday,
- ✘ eliot spencer,
- ✘ ellie,
- ✘ eponine thenardier,
- ✘ eren,
- ✘ gabriel,
- ✘ garrus vakarian,
- ✘ hans,
- ✘ hawkeye pierce,
- ✘ homura akemi,
- ✘ howard bassem,
- ✘ ian chesterton,
- ✘ ian gallagher,
- ✘ iskierka,
- ✘ jean kirschtein,
- ✘ john watson,
- ✘ julian bashir,
- ✘ justin law,
- ✘ kain highwind,
- ✘ kankri vantas,
- ✘ kili,
- ✘ leonard mccoy,
- ✘ lindsey mcdonald,
- ✘ max guevara,
- ✘ mindy macready,
- ✘ mouse,
- ✘ nepeta leijon,
- ✘ orc,
- ✘ perry kelvin,
- ✘ pruna,
- ✘ r,
- ✘ rat,
- ✘ ruby lucas,
- ✘ sam winchester,
- ✘ sherlock holmes (bbc),
- ✘ shion,
- ✘ some ovmennet,
- ✘ starkiller,
- ✘ subaru sumeragi,
- ✘ susannah dean,
- ✘ the disciple,
- ✘ venus dee milo,
- ✘ willow,
- ✘ zelos wilder
ARENA 09 - THE MUSEUM
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.
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.
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.
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.
2
1
The gong rings out, and the countdown's voice announces "the Arena is now open". The Games have begun.
THIRD FLOOR
Cafeteria
Down one length of the dark hall he could just make out the sloping head of a familiar figure - that it wasn't moving, did nothing to stop the hair from leaping up along the back of his neck. The other way, a glass wall, behind the grime of which he could see tables, chairs....
He took off for them at a sprint, the bag he'd won from the Cornucopia bouncing against his hip.
Re: Cafeteria
"Crap." Someone was there already.
"Uh, hey!" He said, louder, his voice cracking as it usually did, "I'm just here to get some food. Could you, y'know, avoid killing me horribly, or should I just run like hell right now?"
Re: Cafeteria
Tucking it between his teeth (it was buttery and flaky, and for a moment still felt warm), he slipped the bag off his shoulders and yanked on the zipper. Intending on stocking up now, while the gettin' was good, he reached up -- just in time to see a shadow pass over the glass door at the other side of the room.
Swearing under his breath, he ducked and waited... and listened, brow furrowing at the strange voice.
He didn't recognize it - though the small crack in it reminded him of Howard - but that he'd spoken, announced himself, earned him a few points. Carefully, he reached up and pulled the biscuit out of his mouth.
"...That's gunna depend on you, son," he called back after a long moment. Slowly, he shifted out his crouch and stood, watching the shape beyond the glass warily. "Why don't ya come out here where I can see ya."
Re: Cafeteria
"Hey, name's Danny. Just lemme grab some stuff and I'll get out of your hair."
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He wasn't looking for a fight. Not with some boy not even into his peach fuzz yet.
(Though, maybe, he should have been. The knot was there, low between his shoulder-blades. A reminder. A weight.
Eight arenas. He knew how slim his odds were if he didn't win...
...But he couldn't do it. Not in cold blood.)
"Wyatt," he replied. "Wyatt Earp."
He jerked his head back over his shoulder, gesturing toward the kitchen behind him.
"There's plenty enough yet, we ain't got'a fight over it."
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Danny walked the rest of the way over, and started grabbing as many non-perishables as he could carry.
"...wait. This isn't gonna work," he muttered to himself. Danny couldn't keep carrying all that food in his arms through the whole arena. And the bag from the cornucopia wasn't going to hold near enough. He shucked off his shirt, tying off the sleeves, and dumped his gathered supplies into it.
For someone who was trying to avoid a fight, the skin that the shirt had hidden was covered in combat scars.
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Not until Danny did. Even if he was talking to himself.
"It ain't 'sposed to. They don't want ya to get enough," he muttered, turning away from the case. "They want ya to have to come back here, with everyone else."
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"So, it kinda sounds like you've been parts of the Games for a while." It might sound a bit like a forced attempt at a conversation, but Danny was legitimately curious.
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Cafeteria, Day 3 | for Julian
Therefore, I have ventured out into the air conditioning vents to look for a new food source, since the small cafe on our floor is nearly exhausted and won't last more than another day or so. Wait a moment, is that --?
Carlos pauses his mental notes to stare through the narrow metal slits that make up a vent opening. He can't believe his eyes as he peers at the open space in front of him. Sleek ultramodern appliances, gleaming industrial refrigerators, doors that probably led to pantries -- it was a kitchen, it had to be.
Unfortunately, from this angle, Carlos can't see if it's completely empty. The grate also comes out several feet up the wall. He'll be pretty much defenseless for a few moments after exiting the vent. Carlos is only grateful that his soft pajamas and bare feet have allowed him to move through the vents with a minimum of noise.
Slowly, carefully, he starts to work on the screws that hold the grating in place, twisting them free from the back side. Metal scrapes on metal, and it's a noise Carlos cannot avoid. He wishes his heart would pound a little more quietly in his ears, so he could be confident that he would hear anyone approaching the vent from inside the room.
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Something was in that grate. Something, he thought, much larger than a mouse.
There wasn't anyone else in the cafeteria for the moment--he'd waited, purposefully, in hiding until everyone was gone. He hadn't really expected anyone to come in from the ceiling--though he supposed he shouldn't be surprised, at that.
Julian pinpointed the specific section of ventilation shaft the noise was coming from, then ducked behind a set of kitchen appliances out of view. He'd wait, and see who--or what--came out of there before deciding what to do.
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Okay, now the problem is getting down when maneuvering in such a tight space is impossible and going out now means dropping headfirst about six feet. Briefly, Carlos considers the merits of backing up to the nearest vent junction and doing a three point turn, but that would mean exiting the vent feet first and entering the cafeteria blind. No, better to just jump right in.
Carlos shuffles out of the vent, holding onto the edge of the opening as long as he can and finally executing a clumsy kind of roll as he hits the floor shoulders first. It mostly works -- the worst he'll have from the drop is a bruise or two.
He picks himself up and dusts himself off as he looks around. It looks empty, but that doesn't mean it is. Carlos, apparently unarmed, starts to walk around the kitchen, wanting to do a quick sweep of the area before he turns his back on the wide open space.
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His hiding place was not particularly effective, and whoever this man was, he didn't have a visible weapon. Julian did--loathe as he was to use it--and the reflexes to bring them to bear should he need.
In an instant, he'd calculated the risk and potential and determined his course of action, then smoothly stood up.
"I hope you didn't make nearly as much noise on your way here as you did coming out of there."
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He couldn't keep his mouth shut, though. After a beat, he frowned and said, "Why don't you try climbing face first out of a vent six feet off the ground? We'll see how graceful you are." Carlos sounded testy, but there wasn't any real vitriol behind it. Being on-edge and terrified didn't do wonders for Carlos's social skills. "It's still better than the elevators."
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"I would, but I prefer to take the stairs." He shrugged--dragging himself through Jeffries tubes had been bad enough in the Academy, and the access ports on DS9 weren't any better.
"I'm Doctor Julian Bashir. As you might guess from the title, I'm hardly interested in hurting anyone." Unless you make him.
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"Oh, are the stairways open? I tried the doors before, but they were locked, and I couldn't get through." Maybe some of the others here could pick locks or otherwise break through the doors. If that was the case, then getting from floor to floor would be a lot more convenient from now on.
"I'm Carlos. I'm not a doctor -- not of medicine, anyway -- but I am a scientist, and I'd really like to get through this without hurting anyone, either."
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"The ones downstairs were, but everywhere else has been opened by now. Much easier and less claustrophobic than utilizing air vents." Not to mention the benefits of not being in a completely enclosed space.
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Cafeteria | for Howard and Ellie
For now, though, she's pretty hungry. She could always do with a little more food, but while they have the chance she might as well top off before carrying off whatever she can. So now she's working laboriously on using a hand drill to start up a fire for cooking. She remembers dimly that stoves can do that, but this one won't light, though it emits gas. She really wishes she had her lucky lighter, or at least some matches, but this will do for now.
Finally she coaxes a small ember into becoming a little flame, and holds it up to see if she can light the stove now. But before she can, there's a blaring, shrieking sort of noise, and a weird kind of indoor rain starts up.
Re: Cafeteria | for Howard and Ellie
But that's just the start. Thankfully the onesie protects most of his skin from the liquid nitrogen that falls. It doesn't protect his feet and ankles.
He shrieks in surprise as much as pain and shoves past Willow and out of the cafeteria, out into the open but also away from the rain of fire. He throws himself behind a standing fossil of an early humanoid.
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"Howard!" The cry is ripped from her lips before she can stop it, and she's running toward the shriek, pulling out her bow.
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"I hate this place, I hate this place, I hate this place," she mutters to herself, wrapping one of the small towels she snagged earlier around her hand and cradling it to her chest to warm it. "Hey!" she calls out to Howard; she didn't notice where he went in her rush to get under cover. "Still alive out there?"
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Thankfully, it's Ellie that emerges from the darkness. Howard sees her from behind the fossil display, rushing forward with a bow. He doesn't see the arrows.
When the alarm switches to a beeping instead of a police siren, he yells out to Ellie and Willow (he would whisper but the noise has blotted out his ability to differentiate volume): "I'm okay! That was bullshit!"
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"Yeah, I know, I set them off earlier," Ellie sympathizes. "Who's your friend?" She asks quickly - she'd already put them under the 'trust' radar, if they were with Howard, but she still needed information.
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She scoots out from her hiding place and stands up, regarding the new girl a touch warily, a hand on her belt knife in case she was going to try anything. "I guess you two know each other. Truce?" After all, if she's going to be hanging out with Howard, it's probably not a great idea to attack his other allies.
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"This is Ellie. She's good people. Smart people," Howard emphasizes, because he knows where Willow will place value if she's anything like him.
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