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thearena2015-05-25 01:44 pm
etcircenses) wrote in thearena2015-05-25 01:44 pm
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
“Don’t yeah, yeah me. You keep squirming and we’re gonna fall, and with our luck we’ll both twist something.”
It’s going to take something more than Sam stumbling because Clint wouldn’t quit struggling to get something that looks bad enough to explain away Clint’s knee, but yeah, at some point, Sam’s gonna have to engineer a fall. He can do it, he knows, he knows how to fall smart and roll right back up, how to protect the guy he’s carrying - it’s just going to be orchestrating it that’s the hard part.
Sam just hopes that Clint got what he was saying, and he hopes that Clint trusts him enough to go with him on it. Rewriting definitions of a trust fall, right here.
no subject
Clint does, in fact, get what Sam's saying. Something rebellious crosses his face, the very same expression every teenager banned from something by their parents knows by heart. It's not fair, he seems to be bemoaning, but mostly, he's damn grateful for Sam thinking on the fly and coming up with a cover for his injury.
It's a far better a plan than he'd had, which relied on the bloodbath to leave him breathing, but maybe not uninjured.
"Fine," He says sulkily, taps his fingers one two against Sam's hip, an acknowledgement.
no subject
It’s probably a good thing that Sam can’t see Clint’s face right now, though, because he’d probably have to make fun of that expression.
He starts paying a different kind of attention to their surroundings when he gets that tap in confirmation, looking for anything that might give him an excuse to take a tumble. Eventually he gets lucky when he hears rustling in some bushes nearby, and changes direction towards it.
Sam isn’t expecting a fucking wild boar charging at them out of it, but whatever, he’ll take it, and he waits for a moment longer than he normally would before, grits his teeth, and then dodges, putting them out of the boar’s path but sending them down in the process.
His training picks up and he twists automatically, shielding Clint’s body with his own as he hits the ground.
no subject
But whatever, he can deal.
For now, Clint busies himself with scanning their surroundings, as if he's simply watching their backs and not waiting for whatever Sam has cooked up that will explain his injury away. Mostly this means he doesn't get too much of a heads up for the wild boar that leaps out of the underbrush and charges at them. Just enough, so that his head turns, and they go down, missing the boar as it charges by.
Besides, he's got more problems. Even with Sam shielding him, his knee hits the ground and Clint doesn't hold back the yelp it draws from him, a very real pain crossing his face. There's a muttered curse, faked this time, though it's got enough behind it to be convincing, and he clutches at his wounded knee.