Panem Events (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thecircus2014-06-10 12:39 am
etcircenses) wrote in thecircus2014-06-10 12:39 am
Entry tags:
Test Drive Meme
Welcome to Panem. You have been selected to participate in the 75th Annual Hunger Games!
Premise: This Arena is designed to be a small mock arena not all that dissimilar to the in-game arenas we run here at The Games. The party is similar to some of the gathering logs we have inside the Capitol when an Arena begins. Our hope is to give new and prospective players a place to get their feet wet, and get a feel for the fun (and bloody) mess that goes on around here.
This meme is open to anyone and everyone who would like to play. Current cast members, veteran and new, as well as anyone just wanting top drop in and have some fun!
How To Play.
Current cast members - you may tag into this arena in any way you choose, even cast members who aren't or are no longer tributes.
***An important side note, as it is within the confines of the Area in-game, all powers are lessened/nullified to bring any character down to a vincible level. (I.E. Make more magical/super-powered characters easier to actually kill for a normal person). Rule of thumb: If it's a physical difference, the Capitol will not mutilate it out (wings, etc), but other wise it's gone.
The Arena.
Tributes are raised in a circle around the Cornucopia; they are all dressed in safari outfits, including the little hats, and slathered in bug spray and sunscreen. They look amongst each other at the start of the Cornucopia. At the center of the circle is a fountain where a dancing hippo spits water into a circular pool around it. There's an engraving in embossed letters around the one-foot rim of the pool: PANEM NATIONAL ZOO.
Floating in the water of the brass fountain are supplies that the Tributes should find useful: medical kits, sleeping bags, and most importantly, weapons. Ropes, bo staffs, nunchuks, daggers and spears are all in ready supply a mere hundred yard sprint from the Tributes.
There are four paths away from the Cornucopia - into a swampy pit to the south, which, unbeknownt to Tributes, hosts alligators and crocodiles who've missed their scheduled feeding. To the west, into a dark building where boxes cut into the walls reveal that there were once tanks for creepy crawlies, but the glass has been removed. Through a gift-shop to the north, stuffed with plush animals (many of which are filled with razor blades, or other sweet little surprises). Or down an asphalt pathway to the east, winding through tall cages that may provide shelter from the other Tributes - but not necessarily the enclosure's inhabitants.
The countdown blares out in the humid air.
3...2...1...
Let the Games begin.
-/-
The Party.
Back in the Capitol, the Cornucopia is being celebrated with a lavish party. Animal couture is all the rage, and Capitol celebrities have dressed for the occasion by having their teeth elongated and their irises surgically altered to give the appearance of slit pupils. The wine is flowing freely, and the centerpiece of this particular viewing party is what appears to be a pig the size of a hippopotamus being roasted on a spit.
Screens throughout the large ballroom in which this takes place are showing the gruesome footage of the first bloodbath of what promises to be a delightfully ugly Arena. Tongueless Avoxes carry platters with little quail eggs in cups, silently offering them to all the guests. Caesar Flickerman, trademark blue hair now replaced by what appear to be feathers growing directly from his scalp, announces every gorey detail between oohing and ahhing over the dinner. Tributes die; Citizens feast.
Everyone who's anyone is invited.
Premise: This Arena is designed to be a small mock arena not all that dissimilar to the in-game arenas we run here at The Games. The party is similar to some of the gathering logs we have inside the Capitol when an Arena begins. Our hope is to give new and prospective players a place to get their feet wet, and get a feel for the fun (and bloody) mess that goes on around here.
This meme is open to anyone and everyone who would like to play. Current cast members, veteran and new, as well as anyone just wanting top drop in and have some fun!
How To Play.
Current cast members - you may tag into this arena in any way you choose, even cast members who aren't or are no longer tributes.
***An important side note, as it is within the confines of the Area in-game, all powers are lessened/nullified to bring any character down to a vincible level. (I.E. Make more magical/super-powered characters easier to actually kill for a normal person). Rule of thumb: If it's a physical difference, the Capitol will not mutilate it out (wings, etc), but other wise it's gone.
The Arena.
Tributes are raised in a circle around the Cornucopia; they are all dressed in safari outfits, including the little hats, and slathered in bug spray and sunscreen. They look amongst each other at the start of the Cornucopia. At the center of the circle is a fountain where a dancing hippo spits water into a circular pool around it. There's an engraving in embossed letters around the one-foot rim of the pool: PANEM NATIONAL ZOO.
Floating in the water of the brass fountain are supplies that the Tributes should find useful: medical kits, sleeping bags, and most importantly, weapons. Ropes, bo staffs, nunchuks, daggers and spears are all in ready supply a mere hundred yard sprint from the Tributes.
There are four paths away from the Cornucopia - into a swampy pit to the south, which, unbeknownt to Tributes, hosts alligators and crocodiles who've missed their scheduled feeding. To the west, into a dark building where boxes cut into the walls reveal that there were once tanks for creepy crawlies, but the glass has been removed. Through a gift-shop to the north, stuffed with plush animals (many of which are filled with razor blades, or other sweet little surprises). Or down an asphalt pathway to the east, winding through tall cages that may provide shelter from the other Tributes - but not necessarily the enclosure's inhabitants.
The countdown blares out in the humid air.
3...2...1...
Let the Games begin.
-/-
The Party.
Back in the Capitol, the Cornucopia is being celebrated with a lavish party. Animal couture is all the rage, and Capitol celebrities have dressed for the occasion by having their teeth elongated and their irises surgically altered to give the appearance of slit pupils. The wine is flowing freely, and the centerpiece of this particular viewing party is what appears to be a pig the size of a hippopotamus being roasted on a spit.
Screens throughout the large ballroom in which this takes place are showing the gruesome footage of the first bloodbath of what promises to be a delightfully ugly Arena. Tongueless Avoxes carry platters with little quail eggs in cups, silently offering them to all the guests. Caesar Flickerman, trademark blue hair now replaced by what appear to be feathers growing directly from his scalp, announces every gorey detail between oohing and ahhing over the dinner. Tributes die; Citizens feast.
Everyone who's anyone is invited.
no subject
Then he knows, he knows what this past-self is thinking and it startles a sound out of him that he can't immediately identify. Then it hits him, laughter. It's short and rough, harsh and it doesn't sound right, it doesn't sound like when other people laugh. He remembers the video in the Smithsonian, the man who laughed so easily and freely next to Steve Rogers.
It's the first time he's laughed that he can remember.
"You think you know what pain is, nothing they did to you then is going to compare what they do to you after."
no subject
He's fucking exhausted and it explodes inside of his chest like a firework. His fingers curl around the nearest thing, a rock he thinks, swinging up behind him to knock the other guy off. He looks just like Bucky. And that scares the fuck out of him.
"If you're gonna kill me can you try and get on with. I'm not getting any younger."
no subject
Unfortunately the next thing his younger self points out is also something the Soldier hadn't thought about. The next logical step is to kill him, it's the name of the game after all.
But despite his anger at what he had once been and could never be again the idea of choking the life out of him (a very visceral thought) strikes him as very very wrong -- which leaves them at something of an impasse. Or not. Would it amount to suicide? Is this actually himself -- mind boggling but for this place maybe not impossible -- or something created to torment him? Would doing it make he never came to pass?
No, die in the arena, they bring you back. That was what happened, they hit the reset button and made you do it all over again. He'd researched that enough to know it was true.
Shit.
The Soldier twists off him, stumbling to a few paces away and staring at Bucky-himself on the ground, clutching at his head for a moment with teeth gritted. Suddenly he doesn't know what to do.
no subject
He rises slowly, a wariness about his gaze that wasn't there previously. His eyes flick from everything back to the man who looks like him. He takes a moment to simply stare, taking in the arm, the hair, the look on his face. It's like looking into the mirror at the fun house and realising that something is very, very wrong.
He should run. This ... whatever he is, pretty much just tried to kill him. He's not a big fan of that. But he also doesn't really know what else to do.
"You gonna lose it?"
no subject
The violence is over, for now anyway, now it's just the two of them staring each other down. He wonders why Bucky doesn't run, it was always Steve who never knew when to run.
"Before they brought you here... where were you?"
no subject
He tries not to think of what might have happened had this guy got to him first. He still doesn't really understand.
"Catching a train." There's a small smirk to his voice nonetheless, an arrogance that is never really worn out of his voice, "Guess I should've read the board better. Didn't intend to end up here."
no subject
The memory doesn't come full fledged. It's a feeling of gut fear, of resignation, doing something for -- James Barnes died falling from a train, so the history books said. It wasn't the only train he'd ridden in his life but he has that feeling, the one of information trailing just beyond his reach as he tries pull it to surface.
"Sorry." he can't do this. The words are on his tongue to tell him, to warn him of what's coming but he just doesn't think it would do any good, can't get them out. He's here now isn't he? The Soldier has never been a sadist, just a weapon following orders. "I'm sorry."
He thinks he should leave, takes a step backwards.
no subject
He doesn't know why. He doesn't know what it is that's flashing across the other man's - across his - face. Only his mind is in two and he's so confused and lost and where the hell is Steve.
"Wait."
He does his best to look as unthreatening as possible, hands where the soldier can see them. "Just wait. I don't get what's going on but you're ... you look like me. And that's something I figure I should probably try and understand."
no subject
"You don't want to."
no subject
Like go to war. He never really had a chance, couldn't say no when Steve was all but foaming at the mouth to get there. All he'd wanted was to stay behind and protect him and then the papers had come.
"Don't mean I'm gonna shy away now."
no subject
The soldier grimaces, "Hydra."
no subject
And here is a man with his face and a metal limb and Bucky doesn't know what to do with that.
"You're me."
His voice is dull, flat. "You are, aren't you?"
no subject