thecircus | Test Drive Meme

Welcome new Tributes!

The Capitol has gathered a good crop of you at once, and to help morale, and to ease you into Capitol society they are throwing a banquet, just for those who work with the Games. Stylists, Escorts, mentors, a few of the Capitol elite, and of course, you all, the Tributes.

Instead of waking up in the normal way, new Tributes awake in lush beds, in a very posh ski lodge. Elegant but simple clothes are laid out for them, in a warm grey, and a note to come down as soon as they are ready. And if they linger too long, a peacekeeper appears to escort them down.

Those from the Capitol, are brought in on chartered party buses, one for each District, which are about as posh as a bus can get. It's a roughly 45 minute drive, well out of the Capitol's city limits.

Although the party is "mellow" by Capitol standards, it is still pretty damn extravagant. Alcohol flows freely, and banquet tables are kept fully stocked by silent avoxes. The whole ski lodge has been cleared out, and guest can hit up an ice skating rink, or pick out a swim suit and jumped into the huge, natural hot springs tubs.

As the night drags on, however, all does not go as planned. Half way through the night, there is a tremendous roar, and the hotel is plunged into pitch blackness. There is chaos for roughly 10 minutes, till low power emergency lights flicker on. However the generators don't have the power to keep the heater going.

A first aid station is set up, and the avoxes start pulling in blankets to the main lobby, lighting a fire in the fireplace and doing what they can to keep everyone warm. It is quickly communicated that there was an avalanche, and although the hotel remains in good shape, the power and the road to the Capitol has been cut out.

It's going to be a long night.

OOC INFORMATION

Welcome to the test drive meme for

thegames!

We are both a jamjar and a Hunger Games AU character game. You can choose to either have your character ported in from their world or AU them into Panem. Detailed knowledge of the Hunger Games is not required. We accept just about any character and character type that we can work into the world, including AUs, OCs, and up to 3 multiples (however, each versions of a character must be significantly different from the others.)

All the information you need can be found in this post, which can always be found at the top of the mod account. And if you don't find something you need, the FAQ is here, so drop us a line!

Welcome, and may the odds be ever in your favor!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Kankri? Kankri was here? Kankri comes bounding over to him and Kurloz just about sloshes his drink up on himself. Mother fuck, he's bigger too, when did that miracle happen? He looks down at his drink curiously for a second, then back up.

"Tribulations hashed late be of a nature most mother fuckin mirthless and give for trial in the utterance of elucidation to a homie who doth bestow upon me many a querie upon my mother fuckin person, some what be of the unvoiced," He says, somewhat frazzled. He looks around and says in hushed tone. "Of the solitary I didst think of myself to be, and in wake erroneous presumption, I come to thee pleading cognation for what the fuck is going on. Tell true, my brother, is it naught but ours what stand together that make persistence among the strangers, and for how long?"

Oh Messiahs he hopes that's not the case. Though at least now he's not alone. That was good thing. Right? ...Right?

Edited 2014-01-14 19:39 (UTC)

Yeah, Kurloz has always been good at talking in a way that's barely comprehensible. Kankri stops for a moment to parse what he's saying; he's a bit out of practice, and even though Fraysong is similar he still doesn't speak the same way. And as he thinks about his answer, his jubilance quickly fades into sorrow and guilt.

"I'm sorry I don't have better news, but it's just us. It was just me for a while." Kankri sighs. "There are other trolls here, but they're...they're different. They're not from Beforus, and there's something very wrong with where they are from. They're not all bad, but they can be...harsh. Cruel. Very rough. Oh, Kurloz, I'm so sorry." He looks at his friend with the deepest sympathy. "These Arenas they put us in...I can't really describe how bad they are. The ones making this happen, they don't care a whit for anyone's personhood. It's been awful. I wish you hadn't been pulled into it."

This sounds like bad juju. This sounds like a heaping pile of mother fuckin 'nope'. He already thought he was in a pile of nope and now he's just finding it keeps getting bigger. Seriously unchill.

He nods along with it all, face falling more and more, until his head is hanging some. Then his frown shifts to the resolute. He lifts his chin.

"Messiahs have deemed it be and so, upon our mother fuckin hides, a holy mission be unto us, my brother! It must then be preached, the pious noise, our wicked machinations put to production proper. Let us ninjas make performance of stratagem united and bust open some bitchin elixirs in toast for what is to be and that is a rowdy mother fuckin disaccord on for that whom would see this in continuance. There is no need for hetacomb and unpleasantry, I sayeth we seek the mirthless heretic and sit them in for a proper mother fuckin drop of the special science, and so then revelation may be of a mother fucker. Understanding be slammed legit and so may we say our peace! Church."

He concludes his sermon with a sharp nod, steps forward to wrap his arms around Kankri, then freezes and steps back. He gives Kankri a look that is half-questioning, half-exasperated.

"Falsehood be of me to surmise a ninja be naught but still in defiance of propinquity?"

Kankri gives a put-upon little sigh, extending his arms.

"It's all right. I appreciate the need for comforting gestures in this sort of situation. Thank you for asking first."

Weird as Kurloz is, it still bolsters Kankri's spirits to see him. He'd begun to wonder if it was some kind of delusion, telling himself that trolls were better than Alternians made them out to be.

Fuck yes. Point one for Kurloz motherfucking Makara. He grins, smug and shameless, and wraps his arms around Kankri to pat at his back. No one gives hugs like a Makara, not anyone, and certainly it boosts his own mood. Enough that his standard smile comes back genuine as he lets go.

"Most excellent, my brother. Now to bear fruition to our righteous artifice until we see it ripe and end our travail. We shall begin post-haste to drop the wicked rowdy news with aplomb on our masters," He says. "In times hashed most recent, such mysteries of a ninja's state remain ambiguous; what news further be of a mother fucker?"

Hugging feels a bit awkward and uncomfortable, but whatever. Kankri pats Kurloz's back gingerly, trying to reassure him in return.

"I've been as well as can be expected, I suppose," he replies, snagging a glass of fruit juice from a passing Avox. He murmurs a quiet thanks; it still unnerves him deeply, seeing these people brought low for his expediency. "Our captors are awful people, as are some of our fellow captives, but...many of them are kind, even considerate and likable. They do their best to make things better. How have you been finding it so far? If there's anything you need to ask, you may consider me at your disposal, of course."

He watches the avox pass by and can't help but stare at them. They're like ghosts, he thinks, in that there's a sharp disconnect of them from everything else. It is a sudden effort not to crush the glass in his own hand.

"Come now, a brother speaks of sureness most legit there is of no being unreachable with a jam preformed proper. It is liable that occurrence of personal nature has born unto they a block of kind or other. Our giggling gods would seek of thee and thy not to bear arms to our brothers and sisters, and lo', Messiahs said, we ought bestow upon them what gifts of peace to which ourselves near secular remain privy."

He recites, rather than really speaks. Such is the Kurloz way. But sure enough, his eyes shift and he amends, "...though speak of it true, thy self has found reception current to be of a nature most deliriously un-mother-fuckin-chill. It doth be so, there is subtle stifling to the air here... the elixirs do not taste as sweet... there is no sopor, no, not even nip, and so poor sleep will be of me surely... I sense a wish by others on myself to be so devoured somehow or mother fuckin other by all to whom I speak. There is much for which a mother fucker remains unprepared. This is a slaughter of whole other sort."

He doesn't say aloud that he is scared. Though, his pump-biscuit hasn't truly stopped it's furious, frantic march since he arrived.

"...Thy dost give righteous remembrance, there are still miracles to be uncovered yet."

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