Who| All those on the liberation mission and all those being made to fight against them.
What| The liberation of District 9.
Where| District 9
When| This week.
Warnings/Notes| War, violence, death. Please warn for more in headers.

By now, even the most remote and isolated Districts are well aware of the chaos ravaging Panem. District Nine, golden with wheat and blinding with its expansive blue horizon, is quiet, and yet nothing about it feels safe; the stillness is less like a serene oasis than like tall grass that cannot help but contain lions prowling. An air raid siren was going off an hour ago at the sight of hovercrafts, driving everyone inside. No one is outside working the fields or traveling the dirt roads to the hub of the District, which sits in the center like a spider in its web or the axel of a wheel. Displaced Capitolite and Districter both are hunkered down within the corrugated-metal buildings.

The air is hot, and once outside the hovercrafts one finds that what was previously mistaken for silence is in fact the monotonous hum and whine of insects, too continuous and amorphous to really qualify as actual sound but certainly not the absence of it. The sun glares down from a cloudless sky. The earth was tilled until an hour ago, and many of the fields are only partially plowed. Some still have farm equipment left out. Mills and water towers sit awkwardly at the edge of the fields like sentinels or oversized dominos.

The crops stretch out to the horizon, ranging from waist-height to taller than the average full-grown man, depending on the breed. The sheer variety is astonishing, the quality even moreso; ears of corn are as large as toddlers and the wheat is a flawless golden color, thanks to Capitol technology and genetic modification. There are no pests, as most of the plants have a natural pesticide that is fatal upon ingestion and only removable with sprays available to importers to the Capitol, to prevent theft by the hungry employees.

There are crop circles, many in the Capitol’s logo and a few stamped with the insignias of local Capitol-run businesses. It does not reflect the sentiments of the natives but rather an attempt by those clinging to their echelons to enforce a mindset in vain. The propaganda has largely been repelled from the souls of the people here like bugs to a windshield. Only the rarest bit of graffiti may be spotted saying "All is not lost" and "you are weak" both of which have clear attempts to be scrubbed away.

The war continues, and in the back of everyone's mind is a familiar phrase; may the odds be ever in your favor.

WHO| Everyone
WHAT| Power Chip Liberation plot; and you get superpowers, and YOU get superpowers...
WHEN| After D7 breakout
WHERE| District Six, Distrixt Thirteen, the Capitol
WARNINGS| Death, cannibalism.

The manufacturing plant in District Six takes nearly a day to get to for the District Thirteen soldiers; there's word that the Capitol has invested in better radar and anti-aircraft technology, so the hovercraft has to stay low, barely above the line of trees and then, once in the flat desert of the District, only feet above the ground and moving slowly enough not to kick up a visible trail of dust.

When they spy the line of anti-aircraft guns ringing the plant, the soldiers know that they made the right choice in not rushing. The plant is guarded well beyond what a normal factory here in District Six would be, which is a dead giveaway that they've come to the right one. Thankfully, the hacking team back home has carved out a small blind space that the combat team can sneak in through, and from that point the first wave of Peacekeepers defending the command system aren't effective in keeping the soldiers from the controls.

It's only after that that things begin to go wrong. The remaining Peacekeepers in the cramped, busy plant full of machinery and materials start attacking with powers that certainly didn't come from Panem. The factory workers, innocents, run for cover behind assemblylines and hide under tables, and on the second floor of the three-story building they take leaps out the window for safety. Chaos reigns. Holes are blown in the walls; shrapnel flits through the air and takes blood and flesh with it; Gowan Stevens, an unimpressive-looking man with rolled-up sleeves, grabs something from the control panel and a gun from one of his security guards and runs, protected by the mania around him.

Every offworld Tribute will be able to feel it - either the return of their familiar powers, or a rush of intuition and power that they never before had but that seems as easy to come to as riding a bike. From District Thirteen to the Capitol, the rush of power comes heady and wild - and just in time, because disaster strikes both in District Six and in the city.

Who| All those on the liberation mission and all those being made to fight against them.
What| The liberation of District 7.
Where| District 7.
When| This week.
Warnings/Notes| War, violence, death. Please warn for more in headers.

The forest goes on for miles, a great green, snowy, and towering sea unbroken by the influence of man, at least until the city is reached, parts of the forest cut away around it. It's a city that's come to much ruin as the elements have taken over most of what once was Calgary, but some of the buildings have been converted into lumber mills, the giant saws buzzing loud. A few mills even have a man made river running by them to help run smooth and transport materials, the water's current keeping it from freezing just yet. The river runs into a massive and beautiful lake that's frozen over to the opposite side of the river's mouth, the ice thinner the further one gets from shore.

Posters of Clara and Emily have been put up around the District but some only half-way as the war broke out and parts were lost to the elements. Still more have been defaced, scratching out the lines Peace is the brightest star on the tree. The phrase We can make this our Panem can be seen around, but those too have been blotted out in other areas, sometimes with a note that the offworlders don't belong here. Tiny snowmen faintly resembling Karkat and Wyatt stand around, made by the young and hurried hands of certain residents here.

Much of the homes are log cabins, but a few have been made out of overturned train-cars and trucks. Throughout the open paths, Snow has been piled up to build icy blockades, protecting the buildings and their people, while trenches in the middle of the roads give Districters a vantage point to fight from.

But there is no better vantage point than among the trees. With the cover of the foliage, soldiers, Peacekeepers, and Districters alike able to climb the trunks can sit up high and scope out their enemies, getting the drop well before they're ever even noticed. These people have lived rough, but they are stronger for it, not weaker, and they are largely in favor of the Tributes, grateful for the children that were saved. Much of rebellion has hidden within those woods. The rebels on top of the many wildlife creatures like moose, big cats, foxes and birds of prey, make it a treacherous walk for Peacekeepers.

That in itself is another thing everyone will notice; there are a lot of Peacekeepers here. In District seven, most peacekeepers are the best of the best. Capitol-soldiers will be in no short supply of backup, even despite the District's rebelliousness. Rebels will need to step light no matter what they're doing; the Peacekeepers can be a little trigger happy.

The war continues, and in the back of everyone's mind is a familiar phrase; may the odds be ever in your favor.

Who| All those on the liberation mission and all those being made to fight against them.
What| The liberation of District 12.
Where| District 12.
When| This week.
Warnings/Notes| War, violence, death. Please warn for more in headers.

It doesn't take long to get to District 12, the closest district to the rebel district. It's one of the smallest districts, and you only know you reach it when rolling hills grow and grow until they become large, fertile green mountains. The environment looks green and lush, beautiful, really--That is, until you reach the part of the District where people actually live. The weather is chillier than the Capitol, though the wind bares the worst of it. Anyone planning on spending any time outside should definitely get a coat.

The town is smaller than any of the others, and more worn down. Everything seems to have a thin layer of cole settled over it, no matter how much cleaning is done. The center of the town isn't too shabby, and there are a few things that stand new and shining--A metal whipping post and stocks. The latter occasionally has an unfortunate person in it, though most people have learned to buckle down and accept the new rules.

In the merchant part of town, there's some signs of wildlife, knobby trees and green enough yards. The merchants used to ply their trades here, though for now, everything's locked down. As you get farther, it gets shabbier, poorer. Into the Seam, where the poorest of the poor live. Here, the houses are barely more than shacks. Trees grow wild, and what animal life exists is quick to run from any humans, no doubt having survived at least one attempt by the people of the Seam to capture them for the supper pot.

One thing in common with all the sections of the District is a feeling of hopelessness. The mood is dour, as heavy and permanent as the cole dust that seeps into everything. The only sign of anything even resembling any rebellion is a few chalk scratchings on the sides of abandoned buildings, a few zodiac symbols--Anyone who knows the trolls can recognize the symbols of Karkat, Terezi, Psiioniic, and even the Initiate. That, and the grand pictures of Sam Wilson and Joan Watson, and the bold words stating NOT ALONE and WE ALL DESERVE BETTER.

The war continues, and in the back of everyone's mind is a familiar phrase; may the odds be ever in your favor.

Who| District 13 Mission-goers
What| Time to rescue what District kids have survived
Where| Near some edge of the arena
When| During Week 4
Warnings/Notes| Please put any necessary warnings in your thread headers.


There were no sign ups involved this time, this was an off-worlder idea which means the off-worlders clearly have every desire to see this through; you signed up with your consent. The mission is to be held in the evening, so the morning is spent preparing, stocking up the hovercraft with medical supplies, arming everyone, donning the now familiar all black attire. When the alert is sent out, it's simply to gather in the hanger and begin loading.

As promised, there's no sign of a 13-issued leader involved, it's on the mission team and it's assigned tactical head to lead themselves; all Webb gives the group is a chipper smile and 'Good Luck.'

The sun is just beginning it's descent when the hovercraft leaves the hanger. The flight isn't nearly as long as the one to District 3, but it's long enough that the sun has dipped below the horizon when the hovercraft stops. Stopping doesn't mean landing, however. The team's resident off-worlder pilot comes on over the speaker with given instructions: time to strap up and get ready to do a little sky-diving.

The plan is simple really. Should the hackers do their job, the storms will do as they're told and strike the dome below the hovercraft all at the same time, breaking the barrier and making a hole big enough for the strike team to carry out the rescue. Hackers strapped in and strike team ready to zipline down, the hovercraft's door opens to the windy outside, allowing a wonderful view of the bright flash and deafening crash a minute later as the weather codes carry out their destruction.

Time to move.

Who| Jade Nguyen, Roxanne Sutton, Wyatt Earp, & Carlos
What| Liberation of the mind.
Where| Abandoned section of District 5 - Outside of the arena structure.
When| January 1st
Warnings/Notes| N/A

( Mission: Impossible? )

WHO| Venus, Guy, Courfeyrac and Wyatt
WHAT| The respective death threads of the first three.
WHEN| Mini-Arena
WHERE| Throughout the maze.
WARNINGS| Death, probably some gore and suicidality.

( I don't know who's at the helm, but just sit tight. I'll make my way to you. )

Who| Joel and OPEN
What| Various - this is a catch-all for Joel's mini-arena action.
Where| Various spots around the mini-arena.
When| All during the mini-arena.
Warnings/Notes| Probably swearing, violence, death, the usual.

If you want to set something up - Joel can rescue or murder or team up as appropriate - just shoot me a PM or ping me on plurk - frodabaggins!

-----

He found himself a hatchet. It was decent enough - good heft in the handle, sturdy, useful for more than just killing. Joel wasn't particularly invested in winning this game they'd set up for them, but as always, he was invested in surviving. If death here was to be permanent, well, that was all the more reason for him to not die. Especially given that Ellie was probably watching.

He'd asked Kili to keep her away, at the crowning, but he knew better than to think anyone would be able to really do that. Not with so many of her friends here. At least, however this went, it would be short. Not more than a day, and it'd all be over, one way or the other.

Joel took what he could get.

Who| Pruna and Wyatt
What| Pruna is good to her word about protecting Wyatt, surprising everyone including herself
Where| District one part
When| Very near the end
Warnings/Notes| Death

( Should always be kept )

The mood is strange, even for an arena. Every stylist is different, of course, but this arena has thrown people for a loop, and they adjust to them differently.

25 - 24 - 23

The clothes are simple, and the tribute are loaded up quickly. Obviously the stylist have been informed what to tell them, what warnings to give. That there will be two sounds, one for a murdered death and one for an accidental one.

20 - 19 - 18 - 17 - 16

The platforms lift them up, and they are in a tight ring, all facing outwards, in a courtyard ringed by a tall stone wall. To one side is a ring of weapons laid out, brutal looking things. To the other is a ring of supply bags. The pedestals all sit directly in the middle. And beyond them a series of entrances to the maze beyond.

11- 10 - 9 - 8

They've all been warned, don't step off your pedestal early. They have also been warned to put on a good show. Don't kill yourself off, and make sure not to be in the arena when the time ends, without having won. Or else you might not be coming back.

5 - 4

3

2

The sound of the gong plays crystal clear across the opening. Let the games begin.

((OOC-feel free to play out cornucopia here, and then start your own threads just like any other arena. There is still some OOC plotting going around, so I am going to say there are 10 people murdered and the arena lasts 22 hours.))