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.
formersurgeon: (elegant)

[personal profile] formersurgeon 2014-01-22 04:42 am (UTC)(link)
Joan gave a short cry of pain as the elevator's jolt sent a fresh bolt of pain through her leg. She grit her teeth, closed her eyes. Then forced them open and looked around, her brain trying to latch onto something, anything, but the pain.

"Not a parking garage, the elevator is too nice..."
drpsychosomatic: (hands together)

[personal profile] drpsychosomatic 2014-01-23 05:26 am (UTC)(link)
"Six floors," he mused, more because talking about it seemed to be a sort of distraction for Sherlock and Joan than any real desire to speculate- it was good to give them something to concentrate on beyond the pain. "Bit grandiose for an apartment building, I suppose, and I can't imagine that would be very entertaining a location, either..."
alldeduction: (streetlights)

[personal profile] alldeduction 2014-01-25 05:15 pm (UTC)(link)
"Well, we'll see in a moment," Sherlock said as they reached the top floor and the elevator made a loud 'ding!' before the doors opened.

For half a second Sherlock thought the were surrounded, and threw himself in front of John and Joan, the pain ripping through him like a tidal wave - but then he realsied that the figures weren't moving.

"Wax--"
formersurgeon: (you relapsed)

[personal profile] formersurgeon 2014-01-25 05:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Joan tightened her grip on John when she first saw the figures, sure that this was going to be it. Good job, the three of them, barely making it past the Cornucopia.

But no. The figures didn't move. Wax, as Sherlock said.

Joan rolled her eyes.

"God I hate this place..."
drpsychosomatic: (oh noes)

[personal profile] drpsychosomatic 2014-01-27 07:03 am (UTC)(link)
John had startled too- but the relief when it came was immense. For a mercifully brief moment that had felt like eternity he'd thought he would have to try and defend the three of them- and then Sherlock, Sherlock, that mad bastard...

"Madame bloody Tussauds," he groaned. "Alright. We find you somewhere to sit down, Joan, I see to your shoulder, Sherlock, and then we turn these damn things around so they're not looking at me."
alldeduction: (curious look)

[personal profile] alldeduction 2014-01-28 05:18 pm (UTC)(link)
Sherlock staggered out ahead of them, checking both ways before making his way deeper into the display. He wasn't bothered by the wax figures now that he knew what they were, though he did note quietly to himself that it would be an easy way to hide in plan sight.

"There--" He said after a second. "Information desk."
formersurgeon: (b&w)

[personal profile] formersurgeon 2014-01-28 05:46 pm (UTC)(link)
They needed a spot to rest but also to hide. If Joan were on her feet and not in pain, she would have advocated a more thorough search for the optimal place. But neither was true.

"Yeah, that will work."