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thearena2014-08-18 09:38 pm
etcircenses) wrote in thearena2014-08-18 09:38 pm
Entry tags:
- ! arena 11,
- aang,
- albert heinrich,
- bucky barnes (mcu),
- cassandra marko,
- clara murphy,
- commander shepard,
- harley quinn,
- jet link,
- molotov cocktease,
- sigma klim,
- the grand highblood,
- the signless,
- ✘ alex murphy,
- ✘ astrid hofferson,
- ✘ brainiac 5,
- ✘ bruce banner,
- ✘ bucky barnes (616),
- ✘ carlos the scientist,
- ✘ clementine,
- ✘ dave strider,
- ✘ dennett norton,
- ✘ donatello,
- ✘ edward nygma,
- ✘ elsa,
- ✘ eridan ampora,
- ✘ hiccup,
- ✘ homura akemi,
- ✘ joel,
- ✘ justin hammer,
- ✘ kankri vantas,
- ✘ kurloz makara,
- ✘ mindy macready,
- ✘ nasir,
- ✘ natasha romanoff,
- ✘ peggy carter,
- ✘ pruna,
- ✘ rocket raccoon,
- ✘ ruffnut thorston,
- ✘ skye,
- ✘ sollux captor,
- ✘ steve rogers,
- ✘ tess,
- ✘ tony stark
ARENA 11-PaneMall
It’s pre-dawn when the Tributes are roused from their beds and sent to their tubes. Those who’d been imprisoned for the past few weeks had their heads covered before transport to the staging area, and there’s an air of confusion surrounding just about everything that’s happening until the stylists and managers arrive on the scene and try to calm everyone down. The reunions may be happy, but they're sadly very temporary.
The first clue that something strange is happening comes from their clothing: figure skating costumes with bright colors and sequins and ice skates strapped to their feet. Some may even find it difficult to stand with the blades on their feet, but as they're placed into the arena, all becomes clear. The mall skating rink seems quiet and quaint, especially after weeks of uncertainty and stress. Too bad the peace and quiet can’t last.
20
19
18...
Above the ice rink (which houses all 100+ Tributes) there are floors with shops looking over them. Large, bright fluorescent lights dot the multi-storied ceiling and create a warm, nostalgic glow to the place. Benign music is piped in from various hidden speakers to compliment the intended mood of fun and commerce.
17
16
15…
The countdown continues and the Tributes, some of whom haven’t seen each other in weeks, stare at one another helplessly. That is, until one of them boldly decides to speak.
"We're expected to fight here today," Steve's voice suddenly cuts through the tension in the room. It commands attention without demanding it, a conviction of truth in his tone.
14
13
12...
"To turn on each other through fear and self preservation. And we could give them what they want. A bloodbath," here he pauses longer, lets the reality of his statements sink in. Let people realize what he's saying, that this is a choice.
"Or we can choose not to fight. To instead work together," an option so many seem not to even realize they have. "No one here has to die by our hands today," he knows his speaking won't be without consequence, but he does want to believe he'll be the only one to pay for this.
"This is a risk. One many of you are hesitant to trust, let alone take. But everything we do here is a risk to ourselves and those around us," nothing in the arena comes without putting your life on the line.
"I, for one, am willing to take this risk, to choose not to fight," Steve looks around the room, making eye contact with a few people as he does. He's not telling anyone what to do, this is for them to decides for themselves; their freedom of choice.
But he's got faith in the his fellow tributes. "And I've got a feeling I'm not alone.”
… 3
2
1…
After the countdown ends, there’s a moment of utter still and silence. Then...
BOOOOOOOOOOOM
The room seems to erupt with noise and concussive force. The explosions are so violent that the muzak is paused in its tracks and shakes some of the Tributes off of their pedestals, and after the ice fog and smoke clears, it becomes apparent that fifteen of the Tribute pedestals and exploded there on the ice rink. Fifteen corpses lie mangled on the bloody ice: Deanna Winchester, Danny Fenton, Fili, Kili, Kain Highwind, Perry Kelvin, Julian Bashir, Clint Barton, Karkat Vantas, Sirius Black, Rahm Kota, Cinderella, Bunnymund, Robin, Rock Lee, and Rokk Krin.
The center of the ice rink remains completely intact and stocked with a few dozen keys of varying shapes and sizes. This is the Cornucopia and the Gamemakers are compelling the Tributes to skate for it.
The gong rings out, and the countdown's voice announces “The Arena is now open.” The Games have begun.
The first clue that something strange is happening comes from their clothing: figure skating costumes with bright colors and sequins and ice skates strapped to their feet. Some may even find it difficult to stand with the blades on their feet, but as they're placed into the arena, all becomes clear. The mall skating rink seems quiet and quaint, especially after weeks of uncertainty and stress. Too bad the peace and quiet can’t last.
19
18...
Above the ice rink (which houses all 100+ Tributes) there are floors with shops looking over them. Large, bright fluorescent lights dot the multi-storied ceiling and create a warm, nostalgic glow to the place. Benign music is piped in from various hidden speakers to compliment the intended mood of fun and commerce.
16
15…
The countdown continues and the Tributes, some of whom haven’t seen each other in weeks, stare at one another helplessly. That is, until one of them boldly decides to speak.
"We're expected to fight here today," Steve's voice suddenly cuts through the tension in the room. It commands attention without demanding it, a conviction of truth in his tone.
13
12...
"To turn on each other through fear and self preservation. And we could give them what they want. A bloodbath," here he pauses longer, lets the reality of his statements sink in. Let people realize what he's saying, that this is a choice.
"Or we can choose not to fight. To instead work together," an option so many seem not to even realize they have. "No one here has to die by our hands today," he knows his speaking won't be without consequence, but he does want to believe he'll be the only one to pay for this.
"This is a risk. One many of you are hesitant to trust, let alone take. But everything we do here is a risk to ourselves and those around us," nothing in the arena comes without putting your life on the line.
"I, for one, am willing to take this risk, to choose not to fight," Steve looks around the room, making eye contact with a few people as he does. He's not telling anyone what to do, this is for them to decides for themselves; their freedom of choice.
But he's got faith in the his fellow tributes. "And I've got a feeling I'm not alone.”
2
1…
After the countdown ends, there’s a moment of utter still and silence. Then...
The room seems to erupt with noise and concussive force. The explosions are so violent that the muzak is paused in its tracks and shakes some of the Tributes off of their pedestals, and after the ice fog and smoke clears, it becomes apparent that fifteen of the Tribute pedestals and exploded there on the ice rink. Fifteen corpses lie mangled on the bloody ice: Deanna Winchester, Danny Fenton, Fili, Kili, Kain Highwind, Perry Kelvin, Julian Bashir, Clint Barton, Karkat Vantas, Sirius Black, Rahm Kota, Cinderella, Bunnymund, Robin, Rock Lee, and Rokk Krin.
The center of the ice rink remains completely intact and stocked with a few dozen keys of varying shapes and sizes. This is the Cornucopia and the Gamemakers are compelling the Tributes to skate for it.
The gong rings out, and the countdown's voice announces “The Arena is now open.” The Games have begun.
no subject
But more importantly, he just happened to have spotted what looked like a very familiar person as he struggled onto his feet in his lovely ice skates. He almost rushed out to see if it really was Susannah or not immediately but...he didn't want any of them to be here. A completely irrational part of his mind suggested that not knowing if it was actually Susannah skating around out there (and who else could it be, really?) would make it so they weren't there.
Jake knew that thought was stupid, so he started out- hesitantly at first, it had been a couple of years since he'd ice skated- and as he got close to where it seemed she was headed he stopped as best as he could. That was definitely Suze and the poor guy sitting on his ass near a bunch of people hugging (Eddie would think this is hilarious, he thought and internally cringed) was Roland. Both of them had some kind of horrible brand on their faces.
"Suze? Roland?" He asked in a slightly hushed voice, noticeably unsure if he should speak at normal volume around all these people.
no subject
Melodramatic, isn't it? Well. Roland thinks he's come as close to knowing what that feels like as any living person can, and it'd felt much like this. The same terror. For all his training and skill Roland cannot function in the face of it and the red curtain draws back from his mind quick as it ever has, leaving him, for a moment, just a wide-eyed old man shaking so badly he's about to fall on the ice again.
While he stares, a couple tributes a long ways behind Jake start to fight. It's no immediate danger, but it is a reminder: this place isn't safe. No place here is safe, in the arena or out of it, not ever, and he'd known that a few moments ago but suddenly the thought seems hideous.
There is need here, and that's what kicks Roland into movement. "Jake!" Guess who's not at all worried about yelling through a crowd of murderous hugging prisoners? His voice is smooth and strong, commanding, and he beckons Jake closer. "To me!"
He turns toward Susannah. "I'm not as quick as you. Get him away from here, start looking for somewhere safe. I'll be along behind." That isn't, by the way, a suggestion.
no subject
She looks up and about quickly, trying to get a better glimpse of the indoor shopping center around the ice rink, then says to them both, quietly, "Department store. That's the big one, Roland." She motions for Jake to follow her and starts stump-skating toward the rink exit.
no subject
He hesitates a bit as Susannah skates off, because he doesn't really like the idea of leaving Roland back here with all these people on ice skates in a shopping mall of all places. It seemed like a game of Mad Libs gone wrong to him, even. But Roland clearly meant business so he followed after her- feeling a bit stupid because he is clearly another member of the 'doesn't skate as well as the lady without legs' club.
no subject
The fact that the boy's here--
He can't think those things. Only very, very rarely in his life has Roland frozen, mind blank, unable to do anything at all. It's something that happens to other people, but if he thinks on this too deeply, it is going to happen to him now.
He crawls.
At the edge of the ice he pauses to untie the shoes, having to focus more than he has in a long time to make what's left of his right hand cooperate. The shoes he keeps, slipping his hands inside them - they're the only weapon he has right now - and he proceeds in socked feet toward the big store, and the familiar figures near it. "Not this one," he says flatly, eyes flickering over the two of them and settling on Susannah. "With these clothes, it's where everyone will be heading. Back here." He jerks his head in the other direction, toward a smaller store full of rocks and stones of varying shapes and cheapness. It's crowded with displays, set almost out of the way, and he thinks they might be able to find some semblance of privacy there. Then Roland can let himself think.
One dim, still-vocal of him's almost afraid of that, almost doesn't want to, but it's the safest place he can think to be right now, so that is where they are going to go.
no subject
They get pretty close to the big department store before Roland catches up and it's a relief, because she's not sure how much she ought to tell Jake without him around. He's right about the stores, though. Susannah had said the department store because it was easiest to pick out, but everyone will want to go there. At least they don't have to backtrack too far.
"All right," she says. "But I might see if I can sneak in there later to get supplies. Big as that place is, a hundred tributes won't be able to strip the whole thing."
no subject
"Should we talk about anything when they're recording us?" Jake asks, giving his surroundings a very suspicious look because this whole thing just reeks of the people that ruined Roland's world to him. And if this isn't that world it must be one right up next to it. Of course he had been accused of over-thinking things enough to know he could very well be flying off the handle a bit there, though.
"I think I saw a toy store down the hall. They could still carry BB guns in The Toy Store of the Future." He pipes in, helpfully. Honestly, he really wants to add that he would rather be the one to go out looking for supplies- he is pretty small and well, there isn't any way he'll survive as long as Roland and Susannah anyway.
no subject
Then he throws his bladed-shoes to one side, drops slowly to his knees in front of Jake, and tries to let whatever frozen thing is holding his emotions in place fall aside. Has to push it aside, and feels his breath shake as he does so. If only I could wish you gone, he opens his mouth to say. If I could bring myself to wish you'd never come here. Thankfully, he stops himself. Jake ought to be spared something, at least. He ought to be spared hearing that.
Roland runs a hand over Jake's chest, marveling at the feeling of his heart beating. Over his head, feeling the strands of hair under his palm as he'd used to. He considers trying not to be grateful, gives into it, pulls Jake close and sobs. They're not loud, those noises, but neither does Roland try to keep them quiet or keep the emotion out of them. For all he'd asked Susannah to explain things, he fully expects her to do something similar. He's certain Jake will have to wait a while before getting sense out of either of them.
no subject
She hates to let go of him, but it'll be so much harder to explain everything while she's clinging and weeping and right now she's pretty sure that stopping the first will be easier than the second. So she does, eventually. She sits back and takes a deep breath and tries to compose herself.
"It's been a long time, Jake," she says, "for both of us. Longer than you might believe at first. I hope Roland's not asking for an exact repeat of what I told him, because I don't remember what I said exactly, but... I suppose I should tell you first that as far as I know the men we were up against before don't seem to be involved with Panem or the Games at all. And secondly, that I've had time to figure that out since I've been here nearly a year--and I know that won't make sense, that you'd probably only just seen me before they took you, but they can pluck people up from different points in time whenever they want. I've been here nearly a year and Roland's been here a good four or five months." She takes another deep breath. "What have you been told about the Games? And when did you last see us?"
no subject
And he does find it a bit hard to believe that they could have been here for months- even when she explains that they take people from different points in time. There was a short story he'd read once about a guy that went into the past and killed a butterfly, completely changing history. It seems to him like something would have changed if any one of them had unexpectedly been removed, and that they would have been split like he had been after his two deaths/not deaths. He considers voicing this thought, but he is just a dumb kid so he keeps it to himself. It isn't even something he wants to think about.
"I've only been told anything by the person that kept trying to me in weird clothes, but I think I have some idea of what goes on from what they kept showing on the tvs." He says, not aware at all that there were supposed to be Mentors or anything like that as the only one from his District has sort of been absent.
"We'd just left to go save King after Eddie was shot. Only instead of the Keystone world I ended up here, without Oy." He doesn't want to say that Eddie had died, partially because he doesn't want her to know the Eddie was going to die if she's from before him (even if it made him somewhat of a hypocrite) and also because he'd been trying not to think of Eddie, Pere Callahan or Benny Slightman being dead at all. There was just too much time to grieve here.
no subject
Unfortunately that also means that Jake is here, and Roland had seen how two deaths had effected him. In the best case scenario he is about to face many, many more, and they will be the least of his troubles. Roland would rather think only on the feeling of the hair under his hand, the look of his son alive and well, but he is not built for quite that level of self-deception.
As Susannah had begun to speak he'd pulled away, quieted, gradually calmed himself. He keeps his hands where they were, though, on Jake who is solid and here and alive, and can not seem to look away from him for more than a second at a time. "Jake. This isn't going to be quite so bad as- as that, ah, the city we traveled through, where we usually met the train, but it'll be similar.
"Keep a good watch on your surroundings at all times," he gestures with two fingers in each direction as he speaks it, "in front, behind, all sides, including above. Try to note any hiding spots before you reach them, and be careful who you trust. Not all here are eager to fight - as you saw - but plenty enough are. Susannah and I will tell you our allies, and you can tell them- Susannah? Do you think it wise to hide the fact that he's my son? May not last long, but will it make a difference?"
no subject
She frowns. "Actually, I don't know if he ought to be more cautious about the other kids his age and the teenagers. Those that play the game to win won't hesitate to fight another kid like an adult might--though you shouldn't necessarily trust adults either, Jake. Or anyone we haven't vouched for, unless they prove themselves."
I'm so sorry I'm holding stuff up, I'm super sick atm.
Jake nods mutely as he's instructed to pay attention to his surroundings. Though he does give the ceiling a curious glance because he can't say he's sure that he knows how someone could stage an ambush from up there. Better safe than sorry, though.
He hadn't planned on rushing into any alliances or make friends with anyone his age here. In fact, it was disturbing that there were kids his age here at all. But more importantly...
"I'll be careful, but if most of your allies would help me anyway, shouldn't we just keep quiet about me?" He doesn't come out and say he doesn't want anyone to use him against what was left of their tet. He wasn't confident of his ability to survive without Oy's help and it wasn't like he hadn't been used against Roland more than once.
no problem <3
"I'd like to introduce you to Clementine first," he says to Jake, turning back toward him. "She's nearly your age, brave, fights fairly well. She'll make a good ally. But I'd also like you to stay near one of us at all times, aye? Or at least as often as possible. You'll do alright, so long as you take care." He runs his hand over Jake's head again, knowing one - or more likely, all - of them are going to die before this thing is done, and that in the best possible scenario Jake is still going to end up witnessing it. Remembering it.
But even now, he can't be angry at those who brought Jake here. He ought to be. The need to speak of that, to cry Jake's pardon for it, is powerful and persistent. Roland is selfish, he always has been, that the need to soothe his own ills is so strong even as he knows well what it'd do to Jake to speak of it. Perhaps Susannah, later, will listen, might even understand, but for now Roland only clenches his jaw, hopes he'll be able to distract himself with other matters until that time can come. "And your allies, Susannah? I'm afraid I still haven't been keeping track as I ought to. Who are they?"
yeah don't worry
But as it happens, she has three names: "Carlos, Donatello, and Mindy--although I don't know if Mindy's in the arena or not. She was arrested when I was and they might try to punish her by sending her back, but I won't know until I see her. Carlos is a bit older than me and he's not much of a fighter, but he's from a very dangerous place--or anyhow, everything he's said about it makes it sound like it's dangerous--and he's good at surviving. And he's very smart. If you see a man with perfect hair in a lab coat that's him."
She rakes her fingers through her halo of hair. "Donatello's... he's probably no older than twenty. He's clever, a good fighter... and he's a man-sized turtle. Not a taheen with a turtle head, an actual turtle. And a ninja. He's a teenaged ninja turtle and yes, I know how ridiculous that sounds but it's true. You... ought to be able to find him easily, he's the only turtle around."
She looks to the gunslinger, then. "Mindy's someone I've been meaning to introduce to you, actually, Roland. She's Jake's age, though she acts older, and she's very good at fighting, especially if you can get her a gun."
I return from the dead! -spooky noises-
"I will." He answers, not quite truthfully. He is a lot smaller and more mobile than either of them, and he is more than willing to take risks if that means keeping Roland and Susannah alive longer.
He silently absorbs the information about their allies- it is kind of hard to accept the man-sized turtle, though (and the image that his brain makes for this concept is not like a teenage mutant ninja turtle at all). Way harder to believe than Ronald Regan as president, Suze. Jake isn't exactly the best judge of perfect hair (or hair at all really to be honest) either, so he's just going to keep an eye out for an older guy in a lab coat. And two girls around his age...yeah, the two of them had gotten awfully vague since being abducted.
"What should I do if I run into one of them alone? No one here will just take my word that I know you guys, right?"
[ooc: I am back from having a really serious infection! I am so sorry I just disappeared like an industrial-sized butthole. I'm definitely not 100% yet but I am at least functional now. I hope I didn't hold either of you up >: ]
no subject
Roland pushes aside that hope, hope tangled all up in thoughts of Cuthbert who, though here once, is not going to come back and perhaps never should have been trapped in Panem in the first place. He's mostly used to doing that, pushing those thoughts back, and after a moment picks up his sentence where he'd left it. "I haven't made as many allies as I should have. Signless should be safest - he's a, ah... Does your world have a word for it, Susannah? Someone who doesn't fight. Not offensively, anyway. There are a few who look similar to anything I'd describe, but I'll try later on. For now we ought to..."
And there he loses steam. "We ought to do something. Choose, um, choose a place to stay for the night. Gather certain things." There must be something. Something that needs to be done before Roland has to finally face sitting and thinking about all this. He looks to Susannah, eyebrows raised, hoping she'll be able to pick up his slack.
((ooc: Health definitely comes first. I hope you feel better soon!))
no subject
"A pacifist?" Susannah suggests. "I know who you're talking about, he's one of those trolls. Trolls are a kind of space alien," she explains to Jake, "with grey skin and orange-striped horns and there's a few of 'em here, but most of the ones I've seen in a long time have been teenagers. Roland's friend is one of the few that isn't."
She runs a hand through her hair. "So far this place doesn't look too bad for tonight, at least if we attempt to hide behind the counter or a large display. We'll want food and better clothes and some sort of weaponry to start with. I can handle clothes at the department store--I should be able to find Roland a purse there too or at least a handbag--and you two could check the toyshop like Jake suggested and maybe scout out the rest of the lay of the land."