Test Drive Meme

[etcircenses]

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 Arena 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 otherwise it's gone.

The Arena.

The Tributes are put into the tube by their Stylists and emerge into blistering dry heat and blinding sun. They stand atop a red rock peak, in a circle, with the Cornucopia in the center. They're dressed in cargo shorts and tank tops, men and women, and hiking boots. The sun beats down mercilessly, and there's a fifty-foot drop around them from this natural pedestal.

The Cornucopia's bounty includes rock climbing harnesses, water bottles, ropes, climbing grips for shoes, globes, sunscreen, and cans of food and water. Naturally, weapons are also available - crossbows, bear traps, "walking sticks", hunting knives.

The wildlife waits for them below: gila monsters with poisonous mouths, violent javelinas, shrikes bred to go for the eyes, rattlesnakes with hallucinogenic venom.

5...

4...

Ropes and carabiners hang from the sides of the peak, for those who don't die in the bloodbath or fall to their dooms.

3...

2...

1...

With the sound of the gong, the Arena has begun.

-/-

The Party.

Back in the Capitol, the Cornucopia is being celebrated with a lavish party inside a hologram room. The walls of the party shift around to various exotic locales, but the theme of the evening seems to be Heat. Saunas and tanning beds are available, and Capitolites, their makeup practically dripping off from the temperature, are in hot tubs or stripped down in fluffy robes. Avoxes, tongueless and sweaty, bring ice cold drinks to everyone.

Anyone who's anyone is invited.

Comments

[kinesia]

When the timer goes off, all Grey cares about is getting what he needs. He doesn't look at the other tributes. He throws and pushes them aside until he can get his hands on a knife, the only weapon he needs or wants. A pack, a small one, is scooped up, but he doesn't look inside it. Scaling the cliff is a task that suits him. He's spent his life climbing up things and over things, and he's not afraid that he'll fall. He's more afraid of the others. The other tributes.

And the sun, which feels hot enough to drain the life from him.

He has never known light like this. He'd seen sunlight once in his life, through a window, and never again. Now it's not just an abstract thing that makes him squint. It's glaring, blazing, making him sweat through his new clothes and making his skin slick in a way he hates. It makes climbing harder.

His mentor had told him to grab what he needed and run. Don't care about anything else. Just run and find cover, stay alive. That had been the order. That's all he's trying to do, and then -

The person below him makes him stop. Grey sees him by chance, hidden among boulders. Dropping on top of those boulders is automatic. All other thoughts are chased from his head. It's Curtis, it's Curtis. Curtis is here, and it makes everything else stop mattering because if Curtis is here, then he'll follow him and never mind any other orders. Grey crouches on the boulders, already reaching for him to see what's wrong. At least the boulders are in the shade. He touches at Curtis' arm, at his shoulders. Look at me, that's what he's thinking. Are you okay? Please be okay. Don't be hurt, you can't be hurt. What's wrong, what can he do?

Grey can't speak, but the questions and the fear that comes with them are written all over his face. Grey has lost his home. He's lost Gilliam. He's lost everything that he knows, but Curtis is here, and he'll help. He can't die. Grey won't let that happen.

[dispositioned]

The grab at his shoulder is enough to jar him from his tunnel vision, at least for a moment. With a rush of hormones and primitive drive, Curtis strikes out clumsily at the fucker trying to kill him. He knows he has no shot, but this is all he can do as the sun sets on the first day. An easy target if he runs, Curtis tries to drive the person to the ground with his heavy weight. Then if he's lucky--If he can just find his damn combat knife. It's on his person, he killed the snake with it... He just--His hand is so numb from the venom it may as well be worthless in its search.

[kinesia]

Grey ducks, instinctively, darting underneath Curtis' arm and then staring at him with some alarm. Something's wrong. Curtis wouldn't hit him.

He moves in, putting his hands up in clear surrender, and then trying to grab for Curtis shoulders. He has to get him to look at him, to recognise him. He has to try and stay with him now. What if others come?

Grey's eyes dart around, trying to make sure of that, before he focuses on Curtis again.

[dispositioned]

He's not dead yet and that's... worrisome. Maybe all it has ever been is a damn hallucination. Is he wasting time and energy fighting himself? Not that the alternative is any better. So when a hand reaches out to him, it's like words, and he can't be sure if its real or not. That's all he sees; no hand, just the culmination of letters and script. It's familiar and horrible. Curtis sees those words on paper, on a man's body. He sees the faces of the people he lead to their death, and they rush at him like vengeful spirits.

It pulls on his shoulder like it's real, like Edgar and Tanya are clutching to him for life. Well, fuck that. He has nothing to give the dead or dying. With a numb hand, he tries to peel the words off of him, the thing truly solid in his hand. Even darker than him, the words are still stark against the skin and he follows the line of lettering to a face that doesn't change. That should, he thought, be dead. Grey. Even as his vision wanes, nothing about Grey changes, so he has to ask. And he really hopes it's not a dumb fucking question.

"... You... You real?" And just like that, he knows it's a dumb question. This is Grey. What's he going to say, Yes? Christ...

[kinesia]

There he is. Curtis seems bleary and confused, but he’s here, he’s present, and he’s seen Grey at last. Grey nods eagerly, moving to try and stay in Curtis’ line of sight. He moves closer, shifting his hand up to lay it against Curtis’ cheek. Yes, it’s him. Please stop moving now, let him help you. Trying to reinforce that message, he turns his right arm around, showing him the word ‘Please’ tattooed there. Please. Let him help.

He still doesn’t know what’s wrong. Except that Curtis’ arm seems swollen, and there’s blood, and…

What did that? Grey’s never seen a wound like that before. He reaches for Curtis arm, and lifts a questioning face to him. What is it? What’s wrong?

[dispositioned]

"Shit--" Well, with the threat of death no longer hanging around like an odor from the train's septic tank, Curtis is all for sitting back down. Grey as his anchor, he staggers to the ground and props himself back up against his boulder. He'll answer questions once the world stops spinning and his head throbbing from God knows what. Probably dehydration, probably the heat. He remembers vaguely how it felt before CW7 fucked everyone up further. Either everyone is bitching about the cold or the heat, you just can't win.

When feels lucid enough to form words, he tries to explain the shit that can kill outside the train to someone who's never seen it. Guess they would see how well Curtis does.

"Got bit," he says, eyes closed to the harsh sting of the setting sun. "By a snake--It's..." He pulls his arm away from Grey to press both hands together and make his arms wriggle in a clumsy attempt at mimicry. "Long and... Makes noise, like... like a rattle. You hear it, stop moving. Just stop." Not that he took his own advice obviously. "Venomous too." Something as alien as any other species of animal besides humans is a hard thing to describe properly. No doubt, though, they would run into another one before this ends.

[kinesia]

By a snake. An animal from the old world. Until now, they were just a story.

Now they’re real, they’re here, and they’re venomous, apparently. Grey is focused on the wound. He knows little about snakes, but plenty about infection. He knows the danger of that, how easy it is to lose an arm or worse, if it gets bad. He needs something to clean it, something to wrap it…

That won’t get the poison out.

He pushes his panic down. He has only just found Curtis, and he will absolutely not leave him again. His hands are on him, helping him to sit, keeping him stable, checking his temperature. Then he pulls open the pack he’d grabbed, empties its contents onto the ground and finds the bottle – the little bottle his mentor had told him to get, because it goes in water and makes it safe to drink. The bottle’s label says that it’s called iodine. Grey holds it up in Curtis’ eye line, and points hopefully at the wound. Will this help? Will this make it safe? How do people treat snake bites? He doesn’t know, has never had to know, but if Curtis can tell him then he’ll do it. His empty hand touches nervously at Curtis’ shoulder.

He’s got to find a way to make him better.

[dispositioned]

Curtis, for better or worse, lets himself be manhandled into position. He can't do much to stop Grey anyway, so there's no point in reacting badly over it. The man's not trying to kill him and that's good enough. Hell, he's trying to help him--Which here and now, seems a little more daunting than the threat of death. The kid doesn't know shit about this world and the one of them who does is pretty much incapacitated. Great.

His head slowly rolls to the side to meet Grey and his pantomime show. He's holding a small bottle as if that's supposed to clue him in on what it is. Feeling feverish and his sight swimming with the drug, Curtis can barely make it out, which frustrates him more than it should. It's not Grey's fault, but if he could he would grab the thing himself to get a better look.

Iodine.

"No clue," he finally says. The only thing he knows about iodine is that they would use it in science class when he was in high school to stain slides. He's not sure how staining his cells are going to help, but... "Maybe." There. That sounds hopeful. Isn't it used to help make safer foods? Or at least helped with some kind of cancer right? Iodine is good for some aspect of your life. Whatever, at this point he is too existential and high to care how bad an idea it is.

[kinesia]

Maybe?

Well, maybe is better than nothing, and Grey otherwise doesn't know. He moves up close to Curtis and pulls the injured arm close to him, before opening the bottle and letting a couple of drops fall onto the bite.

It's still bleeding, and Grey casts a worried look up at Curtis. He puts a hand on his neck and then on his face, hoping his temperature has gone down, but it hasn't, and he doesn't know what to.

Which means he needs to find someone who does. And that means getting Curtis off this mountain. He goes back, collects everything he'd shaken out of his back and puts it away again. The bag goes on his back, and then he's moving to get his arm around Curtis and lift him to his feet. Grey's done this a hundred times before with Gilliam, and though Curtis is stronger and bulkier, Grey doesn't mind. He pats Curtis' chest gently, trying to reassure him, but he nods down ahead of them. they need to get out of here and find a safe place, and find someone who'll know how to help Curtis. that's the plan.