Panem Events (
etcircenses) wrote in
thearena2015-05-25 01:44 pm
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Entry tags:
- ! arena 14,
- aang,
- alain johns,
- alistair theirin,
- anna of arendelle,
- bayard sartoris,
- black tom cassidy,
- bucky barnes (mcu),
- clint barton,
- commander shepard,
- ellis,
- eowyn,
- haruto soma,
- james sunderland,
- jet link,
- karkat vantas,
- kousuke nitou,
- molotov cocktease,
- phillip gray,
- revas tabris,
- roland deschain,
- sam wilson,
- terezi pyrope,
- ✘ adella trevelyan,
- ✘ anders,
- ✘ arya stark,
- ✘ clementine,
- ✘ cullen rutherford,
- ✘ dave strider,
- ✘ dorian pavus,
- ✘ feferi peixes,
- ✘ garrett,
- ✘ gary epps,
- ✘ gritta,
- ✘ jack sparrow,
- ✘ joel,
- ✘ kieren walker,
- ✘ maxwell trevelyan,
- ✘ pietro maximoff (evo),
- ✘ rose lalonde,
- ✘ steve rogers,
- ✘ tiffany doggett,
- ✘ zed
Arena 14: A Grimm Age
The morning breaks to a familiar routine for most of you. Bright and early the Tributes are roused by their escorts and stylists, escorted from their rooms and to the waiting hovercraft. The flight takes them a few hours out from the Capitol and after landing they are escorted quickly into an underground complex to be prepped. Tributes will find to their dismay that their outfits are a little less practical and a little more costume this time around, the ratio of which depends entirely on the whims of their stylist. Peacekeepers will appear almost immediately after they've finished dressing to put them in the waiting launch tubes.
59
58
57
They rise up from the ground and -- phew, what's that smell? The Tribute's look around them to see a full-on medieval village, constructed entirely from wood and thatch. There are empty pens that might have once held pigs and chickens attached to the houses and a well is visible down the street. What commands attention though is what's in the centre of the village square where the Tribute's are standing; a pyre built around a tall wooden stake. Those who look amongst the piles of twigs and wood will see the gleam of weapons, as well as backpacks containing survival supplies. This is your Cornucopia, Tributes.
30
29
28
Anyone who tries to look further afield, over the roofs of the houses, will see the main feature of this arena looming above them. The castle stands tall and forbidding, a monstrous sized building of stone with flags bearing the emblem of the Capitol flying from its parapets. From here, if they squint, they can see the drawbridge is down and the portcullis is open. For now.
3
2
1
A triumphant sounding of trumpets is what signals this arena's beginning and with it those Tribute's with powers may feel a sudden tingling in their bones, a rush of energy as those powers are restored to them. Any with constantly active abilities will find a light illuminates immediately over their head, signalling that something about this powered arena is going to be a little different from the last. For those who try to use their powers right off the bat... well, they'll be in for a nasty shock.
[[OOC: A mod reminder that this arena is designed to punish Tribute's for using powers. If your character will attempt to use powers at any time in week 1 of the arena it needs to be reported here to be RNG'd by the mods for chances of success or injury.
There will be a thread on Death Roll posts for subsequent weeks power usage to be reported.]]
58
57
They rise up from the ground and -- phew, what's that smell? The Tribute's look around them to see a full-on medieval village, constructed entirely from wood and thatch. There are empty pens that might have once held pigs and chickens attached to the houses and a well is visible down the street. What commands attention though is what's in the centre of the village square where the Tribute's are standing; a pyre built around a tall wooden stake. Those who look amongst the piles of twigs and wood will see the gleam of weapons, as well as backpacks containing survival supplies. This is your Cornucopia, Tributes.
29
28
Anyone who tries to look further afield, over the roofs of the houses, will see the main feature of this arena looming above them. The castle stands tall and forbidding, a monstrous sized building of stone with flags bearing the emblem of the Capitol flying from its parapets. From here, if they squint, they can see the drawbridge is down and the portcullis is open. For now.
2
1
A triumphant sounding of trumpets is what signals this arena's beginning and with it those Tribute's with powers may feel a sudden tingling in their bones, a rush of energy as those powers are restored to them. Any with constantly active abilities will find a light illuminates immediately over their head, signalling that something about this powered arena is going to be a little different from the last. For those who try to use their powers right off the bat... well, they'll be in for a nasty shock.
[[OOC: A mod reminder that this arena is designed to punish Tribute's for using powers. If your character will attempt to use powers at any time in week 1 of the arena it needs to be reported here to be RNG'd by the mods for chances of success or injury.
There will be a thread on Death Roll posts for subsequent weeks power usage to be reported.]]
no subject
Shepard scoops mud over his burning clothes, then rolls him over. He's filthy, but the ground is dust and mud, and that'll do well enough to stifle the flames. She knows from experience that it's better to be filthy, whatever the injury to Karkat's delicate sense of pride, than to burn.
"C'mon, kid, no lying down on the job," She growls, pulling his sleight weight over her shoulders. Hope you like crinoline, Karkat, because the now-crushed witch-hat Shepard was wearing is your new pillow, "We're getting out of here."
no subject
He feels more than hears as Shepard shows up to dole mud and dust onto his clothes, and while the lack of being on fire is welcome, it doesn't stop him from hissing at the irritation to what damage his skin has sustained.
"What--Shepard?" He sees her hovering over him, and moving, cut out against the bleak sky, and he sees her mouth working too. "Shepard, I can't h..."
He cuts off with another hiss as she pulls him up. He finds that, whoa, he really can't move, even as he tries to shift his limbs to either push at her or hold tighter. What should he be doing? Everything hurts, and he winds up with a face full of crinoline, and he can't make sense of what the hell is going on. She hauls him off the ground with a dizzying rush.
"Stop spinning," he groans as his eyes squeeze shut, and he still can't hear a damn thing.
no subject
One day, when she was finally free to act, there would be things to say to the kind of stylist who dresses a woman for the arena in a dress with no shoulders, but for now Shepard is just glad that the bastards had let her have a sturdy bra, because between Karkat's weight and the ever more tattered skirts, things might be getting positively indecent. In any other situation, it might even have been funny.
It'll make a good story, one day, right?
"Don't you dare throw up on me!" She demands like a threat, knowing how futile it is, knowing he might not be able to really hear her, even shouting over the booming chaos, "Just hold on, dammit!"
no subject
"I said stop," he mumbles against her hat.
He'd be more worried if he could put a name to all what's hurting. It's not like his first arena, when he was beaten three quarters of the way to death and choking on blood from a punctured lung. His leg barely bothers him now, which is a welcome change from the past month, though that might just be the keraunoparalysis.
With his eyes still shut, he doesn't see the passing scenery. He just knows that Shepard is carrying him. Maybe he trained too hard? Is she taking him somewhere? He can't think straight, not really, but if he's going up to his room maybe he can just sleep this pain off. It'll be better in the evening, more manageable. Some rest sounds nice...
His breathing starts to slow, and he doesn't say any more.
no subject
Deafened by the bedlam of the Cornucopia and the noise of the Gamemaker's retaliation for the inborn powers they themselves had permitted the Tributes to use, Shepard was unaware of Karkat's mumbled protestations. She did not feel the way his breath slowed, and it would be some time yet before she realized the futility of her heroism. Karkat Vantas was beyond her help.