etcircenses: (Default)
Panem Events ([personal profile] etcircenses) wrote in [community profile] thearena2014-01-18 02:35 pm

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_marshal: (wyattWhat)

Cafeteria

[personal profile] the_marshal 2014-01-18 09:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Wyatt didn't know what to expect on the other side of the elevator doors, but neither did it really matter. Anywhere was better than hanging around the Cornucopia. The doors slide open with a cheery - loud - ding and he bolted out like a wild horse, skidding on the dirty floor, trying to decide which way to go.

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.
Edited 2014-01-18 22:10 (UTC)
halfa_hero: (Um?)

Re: Cafeteria

[personal profile] halfa_hero 2014-01-21 07:51 am (UTC)(link)
Danny had split off from Beck, and headed up to the third floor. Spotting the tables and chairs, he chose not to make a run for it, but rather sneak along the edge of the walls. He snuck a quick glance past the glass once he'd arrived.

"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?"
the_marshal: (wyattSideeye)

Re: Cafeteria

[personal profile] the_marshal 2014-01-21 12:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Despite the layer of dirt and grime laying like fine snow over everything, the kitchen was stocked as if it were still serving an army of people. The cabinets and cupboards heavy with supplies. The glass case on the counter even held baked goods - still fresh, Wyatt discovered, snagging a soft crescent from the gleaming tray inside.

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."
Edited 2014-01-21 12:02 (UTC)
halfa_hero: (worried)

Re: Cafeteria

[personal profile] halfa_hero 2014-01-21 05:47 pm (UTC)(link)
Danny came out from behind the glass, and visibly relaxed when he saw Wyatt wasn't carrying a weapon. Not that it really meant much, Danny knew the value of a fist or a chair better than most, but it meant he could bolt fairly easily if the older man tried anything funny.

"Hey, name's Danny. Just lemme grab some stuff and I'll get out of your hair."
the_marshal: (wyattLook)

[personal profile] the_marshal 2014-01-22 01:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Wyatt sized Danny up - the face confirming what the voice had already told him - and relaxed slightly, weight shifting back onto his heels. Alert, but not aggressive.

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."
halfa_hero: (Headscratch)

[personal profile] halfa_hero 2014-01-22 04:28 pm (UTC)(link)
"Thanks."

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.
the_marshal: (wyattWhat2)

[personal profile] the_marshal 2014-01-22 07:36 pm (UTC)(link)
Watching out of the corner of his eye, Wyatt was silent as he returned to stealing soft, flaky pastries out of the glass case. He watched - attention on the young man's hands, his feet - as he moved, but said nothing.

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."
halfa_hero: (Um?)

[personal profile] halfa_hero 2014-01-22 09:05 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, well, I'll be able to avoid coming here for another few days, anyways." Danny replied, continuing to fill his makeshift sack.

"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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youbarium: (she blinded me with science)

Cafeteria, Day 3 | for Julian

[personal profile] youbarium 2014-01-20 05:49 am (UTC)(link)
Capitol mental note six, Carlos thinks as he shimmies through the air vents that riddle the building. Last known Night Vale date: June 10, 2013. Local date: unknown. I have been trapped in this museum for two and a half days now, with no sign of relief, or release. There are others trapped in here with me, but I don't know how many. They, like myself, have been told that only one of us will leave alive. I've seen them kill already. So many of them are dead. I have fortified the planetarium on the sixth floor -- it's safe enough for now, but it leaves the problem of food, and water, if this massacre is drawn out much longer.

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.
asklepian: (pic#7155026)

[personal profile] asklepian 2014-01-21 03:25 am (UTC)(link)
Julian's head came up at the first sound of shuffling in the vents above his head, tilting one ear towards the ceiling just as the scraping of the screws began.

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.
youbarium: (-- and careful notes --)

[personal profile] youbarium 2014-01-21 04:09 pm (UTC)(link)
The screws are slowly worked free, and Carlos flinches at the loud, clunky clang of metal on metal as the grate hits the wall next to the vent. He doesn't drop the grate, though, managing to slip it into the inside of the vent and prop it against one side.

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.
asklepian: (pic#7053865)

[personal profile] asklepian 2014-01-22 05:23 am (UTC)(link)
...well, whoever it was hadn't exactly made the stealthiest of entrances. Julian cringes at the loud thump--it seemed to reverberate throughout the room, and while it may be abandoned for the moment if the racket kept up it wouldn't be.

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."
youbarium: (All my tubes and wires --)

[personal profile] youbarium 2014-01-22 05:39 am (UTC)(link)
Carlos froze, completely still except for his racing heart. He was ready to run, or duck behind something, at any sign of aggression from Julian.

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."
asklepian: (pic#6889767)

[personal profile] asklepian 2014-01-22 11:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Julian didn't offer any--he's standing relaxed, hands at his sides--though there is a bow in one of them.

"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.
youbarium: (when I'm dancing close to her)

[personal profile] youbarium 2014-01-23 05:23 am (UTC)(link)
Carlos had no intention of giving Julian any more reasons to use that bow than Julian already has. He put his hands up -- his empty hands, where Julain could see them.

"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."
asklepian: (pic#7053853)

[personal profile] asklepian 2014-01-26 08:09 pm (UTC)(link)
"Fantastic, we're in complete agreement then." Julian is completely relaxed now, returning the bow to a place over his shoulder.

"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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friendlyfires: (pic#7218014)

Cafeteria | for Howard and Ellie

[personal profile] friendlyfires 2014-01-23 03:17 am (UTC)(link)
Willow thinks this is a pretty good start in new territory, all things considered. She's already got a couple of weapons, plenty of supplies, and now she and Howard have found a proper food stash. It's almost unreal how easy they're making it. Probably it means it'll get extra nasty later, so she intends to prepare as much as she can.

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.
iselldrugstothecommunity: (Basic - Owwwww.)

Re: Cafeteria | for Howard and Ellie

[personal profile] iselldrugstothecommunity 2014-01-23 03:31 am (UTC)(link)
Howard shoving stuff into his backpack when the alarm starts. The noise makes him jump up from where he's stooped in a cabinet and smack his head on its underside. He feels blood dribble down his lip from where his teeth have punctured it.

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.
onlyimmune: (aiming)

[personal profile] onlyimmune 2014-01-23 03:39 am (UTC)(link)
Ellie had her own nitrogen burns - drops on her forehead and neck, and the back of her hands - from when her hood had been down. So when she hears the alarm go off her first instinct is to get as far the fuck away from it that she possibly could - and then she heard Howard's voice.

"Howard!" The cry is ripped from her lips before she can stop it, and she's running toward the shriek, pulling out her bow.
friendlyfires: (pic#7218005)

[personal profile] friendlyfires 2014-01-23 03:57 am (UTC)(link)
Luckily for Willow she's still wearing the helm she pilfered from the second floor - she only realizes what's happening when the droplets strike her hands and burn her skin. She lets out a small shriek of her own as Howard stumbles against her, but then she's hardly a step behind him. She pitches herself out and under a glass case displaying australopithecus bones, fumbling in her backpack to try and find something to soothe the tiny frozen burns.

"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?"
iselldrugstothecommunity: (Basic - Owwwww.)

[personal profile] iselldrugstothecommunity 2014-01-23 04:10 am (UTC)(link)
It's not so bad once out of the nitrogen - Howard's still in pain, both on his feet and on the back of his neck and hands - but that doesn't mean it's safe. The fire alarm wails and wails and Howard prays and prays that no one comes down to finish them off. He tucks his feet under his rear and his hands to his chest and tries not to cry.

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!"
onlyimmune: (care.)

[personal profile] onlyimmune 2014-01-25 03:03 pm (UTC)(link)
She ran up to him, hand about to grab an arrow until she was sure he was okay, and then replaced the bow back. She looked about to reach out for him before she stopped herself, hovering instead of touching as she checked him over.

"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.
friendlyfires: (pic#7218006)

[personal profile] friendlyfires 2014-01-28 05:00 pm (UTC)(link)
"Willow," she answers before Howard can. She's not inclined to let anyone else speak for her.

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.
iselldrugstothecommunity: (Basic - Run?)

[personal profile] iselldrugstothecommunity 2014-01-29 09:43 am (UTC)(link)
Howard looks between the two of them, nodding as if Ellie should agree to it immediately. He hopes for a truce between the two, because while he would ultimately side with Ellie, Willow's got a good head on her shoulders and he'd rather have her as an ally than as an enemy.

"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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