etcircenses: (Default)
Panem Events ([personal profile] etcircenses) wrote in [community profile] thecircus2014-11-29 06:35 pm
Entry tags:

TEST DRIVE MEME



Welcome to Panem. You have been selected to participate in the 75th Annual Hunger Games!

Premise: Something has gone a bit wrong with the device, and it's pulling in more people than the Capitol had planned. Extras, doubles, or even the same exact version of someone already pulled into Panem, with or without their memories! It's a mess. But somebody has to clean it up. And what better way to do so than to have a televised death-match!?

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. 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.

This meme may not count for in-game CR because it will not be considered as having actually happened, plot-wise.

Guests - welcome to Panem. This is your first time here. Your first Hunger Games. Run for the Cornucopia. Hide in a corner and cry. We don't care. Go crazy. Have fun. Make new friends. Profit.

***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.

Below, you will find a description of the setting for this arena as well as a few details regarding weapons, supplies and hazards.

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Setting.

The building is old and musty, light filtering down through the dust particles that every movement sends into the air. It was obviously once a grand and beautiful place, a bustling hub, but this is far from true anymore.

The building consists of multiple levels. The main concourse is a huge, cavernous room, a hard place to hide in, but where all the cornucopia goodies can be found. Blue paint speckled with gold can still be seen clinging to what's left of the room, but any design has long since eroded away. Below that, a floor that ones held business and restaurants of all natures, and lower still levels of tracks, now long past the days of holding trains. Some of these tracks can be followed down a bit, if you want to make the jump down into them, but eventually all end short, either collapsed over the years or long since flooded out, ending in dark, murky water.


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You have been outfitted in a pair of heavy cotton denim jeans, solid boots, a light cotton t-shirt and a heavy cotton hoodie. The upper floor can catch a draft, especially as night comes, but below the temperature is moderate, even warm.

Many thins are falling apart here, but the bulk of the building, made of cement and marble, has stood against time well. However, window have long since broken out, and store fronts, benches and counters made of woods have not fared as well.

Al thought electricity stopped here long ago, the Capitol has rigged partial power into the arena. Sometimes. The flickering lights are dim, and unreliable, and seem to always come and go at the worst times. Expect to find yourself exploring a tunnel by flickering lights, to suddenly be plunged into the kind of darkness you can only find under ground. Just you, the rat, and the person following you alone in the cozy darkness.
 
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Supplies.

The Cornucopia is your first, most important resource. Around it are scattered the available resources:

Weapons:
-crowbar
-six-inch serrated hunting knife
-night stick

Equipment:
-day-glow orange backpacks containing the following items:
waterproof matches, high-tensile metal chord (12 feet) iodine
-small crate labeled "apples"
-chords of nylon rope
-metal quart-sized container presumably full of water
-flash lights


**IMPORTANT NOTE!!!!

Since this is a meme, we are going to allow each character the pick of ONE weapon and ONE equipment item, if you believe that your character would risk running for the cornucopia. Just remember. These are high demand items and we rather encourage you to fight over them ;) So long as you all remain civilized about it, of course. If things get out of hand, a mod will step in. Have fun with it, but be realistic too.


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Immediate Hazards.

-The rats. They are big, nasty, and hungry. And there are MANY of them, especially if you go into the tunnels.

-Debris. Broken glass, rusted metal, broken concrete, rotten wood. This place has been falling apart for years and you weren't given a tetanus shot before you came here.

-Cave ins. The tunnels have not been maintained. They are not as stable as they once were after years of flooding and damage with no one to patch them up.

-The Water. Easy to acquire but bad to drink. Maybe you should pray for a rainstorm...

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Wildlife.

**Columba livia. Common city pigeon. They are available in mass, flying in from the broken windows and holes in the roof. They are flighty, and messy, but not particularly smart.

**Loxosceles reclusa granda. Aggressive and unnervingly large brown spiders native to the area and love to lurk in dark corners. Their bites are incredibly poisonous and will begin to rot away the surrounding flesh if not treated promptly.

**Rattus norvegicus. The common rat. Edible if cooked. Known to be carriers of diseases. (Especially if they were put here to do just that...) These guys are EVERYWHERE and some of them get to sizes that might make you wonder if they are cross breeding with stay dogs. And if you explores the tunnels, beware the mythical rat king a massive bundles of rats whose tails have knotted together.

Foodstuffs.

Both the rats and pigeons are edible. In additions, some of the restaurants might have food tucked into the back, in various states of edible.

Dripping water can be found in many places. Drink at your own risk. Some is fine, some...not so much.

As always, we here at The Games would like to wish you a very happy Hunger Games!

May the odds be ever in your favor.
chousenplayer: (To the days I try to lose)

[personal profile] chousenplayer 2014-11-30 12:08 am (UTC)(link)
It's a strange thing, going from hell to this, and Noodle still isn't quite sure what to think about it all. Maybe this is just another layer to it all, a hallucination that she'll find herself snapped out of, but for now it feels real. A really good hallucination is possible, more detailed than the others and lacking features she often finds in her normal ones but for now she treats it as real.

It's stiflingly warm, the air thick and it tastes old, as if it's never known a breeze to pass through. Still Noodle keeps moving, grip on her crowbar tight, the flashlight she'd managed to grab tucked in the waistband of her jeans. Neither of them she intends on relinquishing, not with what she had to go through to get them both and she can feel herself grimace at the reminder of the wet crack of someones skull breaking under her blow. She was lucky she was quick. Was lucky she had once been made for this sort of situation but that doesn't make it any more pleasant to be in.

She draws to a sudden stop at a scuffle up ahead, the clink of someone's boot hitting an old metal can and the can's roll making her more than aware that someone's up ahead. And so she holds still, preparing herself to strike a blow if she needs to as she stares into the distance, to the patch of space where the lights flicker on and off with no regularity and with a voice almost hoarse with disuse she takes a chance and calls out, acutely aware of her surroundings. "Hello?"
chicabonita: (I know what I'm running from.)

Zed Martin | Constantine | Tribute | Cornucopia (OTA)

[personal profile] chicabonita 2014-11-30 12:22 am (UTC)(link)
At least the clothes were normal. The hoodie wasn't hers, but so many things that she owned weren't hers at first either that she was very used to the way new garments settled over her form.

The situation, on the other hand, was completely alien. A death match? They wanted her to fight in a death match? For every bit of her brain that was saying 'why me' there were two bits saying 'of course.' Just another thing for her to survive, right? That's what she always had to do. Survive.

Drawing a deep breath when the signal sounded, she bolted right for the supplies, focusing in on her way to try and get something she could use. There were knives, but the crowbar would be more useful - and she definitely wanted whatever was in one of those backpacks. If she was lucky, maybe she could run by and scoop the items up without running into any trouble.

Generally, though, Zed wasn't a very lucky person.
hersir: (➡ his glassy eyes showed me)

Ragnar Lothbrok | VIKINGS | TRIBUTE (OTA)

[personal profile] hersir 2014-11-30 12:27 am (UTC)(link)
It was abrupt, the entire situation. From awakening to the moment he was standing there and for those passing minutes, hours, days, however long it took, it felt like he only had time to take a breath and hold it, to close his eyes and open them and there he was, standing amidst the others, listening to their breathing and watching the numbers count down. It's all a shock to the system, the clothes he finds himself in are different, the surroundings are fascinating but eerie in their state, so unlike anything he had ever seen before. Even the numbers, not like his own language, are vague but he grasps the meaning, his mind in a state of wonder and awe and tension as he clenches his fists. The moment the sound rings out he moves as fast as his legs can carry him.

Ragnar Lothbrok is a warrior, mentally and physically, he knows an opportunity when he sees it and while he's not sure what it all means, not sure he likes the feeling of his feet upon this sort of terrain, he knows how to defend himself, even though the clothing upon his body feels weak, flimsy compared to what he is used to, and the choices that are at his hands the moment he reaches the Cornucopia are not something he would personally pick for battle. The knife looks ill crafted in the brief glance he gathers so he snatches up a crowbar instead, his other hand moving to snatch away a handful of rope and then he is off. This landscape is not his own, he has to find his way around it, get used to it and quickly.

He must adapt. He must keep a level head.

His feet are quick as he leaves the main concourse, the soles of his shoes collecting the dust on the floor. As tempting as it is to explore for other reasons, to see this completely different world, he knows what he must do and if he is going to die, he is going to die well to permit him access to Valhalla. No though, Ragnar does not want to perish, there is much to learn, much to explore, much to do, try to find his companions, his family again. Failure is not an option and for someone of his time and background, he knows how to handle a fight; though these different circumstances, the lack of familiar weaponry, makes him on edge.

His feet hit the waters, he settles his breath and his mind and Ragnar wanders. Keeping to the tracks to keep the noise of his movements to a minimum he sees it, just ahead in a sliver of light that flickers from the ceiling. Another figure. He grips his weapon tighter, steadying his stance and watching carefully from the shadows, stalking forward.
mendedtapestry: (Focused)

[personal profile] mendedtapestry 2014-11-30 01:03 am (UTC)(link)
If Merida was one thing right now.

It was confused.

She was wearing strange clothes and in a strange place that she at least had the strong feeling had certainly seen better days, she had a bow tightly griped in her hands. It wasn't hers, both it, the arrows, and the quiver were strange to her but nothing she couldn't wield with smooth efficiency.

For the moment under her other arm is a small crate of apples. As she walks down a corridor she's anxious and has no idea what to expect, after all the only thing she was told before being forced here was to survive, so if she had to she was very much going to do just that.
stubbornlittleshit: (Default)

[personal profile] stubbornlittleshit 2014-11-30 01:26 am (UTC)(link)
Arno was equally confused, but he was also royally pissed, at the situation, to put it lightly. Marks were one thing, obviously, but none of these people were his marks and no one who had put him here had anything to do with the brotherhood, so their orders, frankly, were quite useless.

Granted, he hardly wanted to be killed by those who felt the need to play by the rules, but the girl with the red hair, who reminded him a bit of a younger Elise, hardly seemed in the mood to shoot anyone either, and, more importantly than that, she happened to have food, which made it worth a chance at one of the alliances he had vaguely caught mention of.

It took only a look in each direction to be sure no one would see, and he was jumping from his vantage point on one of the walls, aiming it so that he'd appear behind her, and hopefully,snatch one of the apples even before he proposed anything. That way, at least, if things did not work out as planned, he'd still have something to eat after darting away.

At least, that was the goal, and he did manage the leap, but, at so close a distance, with the noise he made upon landing, having misjudged his distance just enough, any attempts at stealing food were likely to be noticed straight away. Instead, he smiled best he could, rolling up onto his feet, and then into a bow, sweeping back the hood of the strange coat they'd forced on him.

"Good morning, miss." And there was the translation into a strange tongue again, and Arno hated it, but kept on smiling even so. "Is it morning, anymore? Nevertheless, consider me at your service, if you'll have me. I could hardly leave a lady all alone to manage this, if you could use another arm."
not_a_songbird: (vultanUp)

[personal profile] not_a_songbird 2014-11-30 02:12 am (UTC)(link)
Vultan had not only survived the killing field of the -- supply horn -- but he had done his ancestors proud, earning a blade for the risk he had taken. It wasn't as comfortable in his hand as his own claw would have been, but they had taken that from him, along with his mantle and crest, and he saw little other course.

And at least he could say he knew what the knife was. The rest.... He recognized that he was starting at a distinct disadvantage, but he was determined to even the playing field.

Stripping the constrictive clothing over his head, he lingered at the crumbling edges of the main floor, crouched in a shadow, eyes on the broken skylights. Watching, and waiting, one with the stone until the flutter of wings had him straightening.

Head lifting, he cooed. A soft bird call, his head cocking, gaze fixing on the pigeon that had landed above him.
mendedtapestry: (Focused)

[personal profile] mendedtapestry 2014-11-30 02:36 am (UTC)(link)
Despite being lost a little in her own thoughts, hearing the sudden noise behind her had her on full alert.

She might not know what kind of beasts or creatures are here, but she's going to make sure nothing gets at her before she at least has a chance to defend herself, so shortly after the noise sounds behind her, she drops the apple crate which clatters to the ground with a few of the apples jumping out from the shock of the landing, the sound echoing along the stone and concrete.

In the same movement she took to drop the small crate she pulls an arrow from the quiver and draws her bow as she turns to face the man, she looks both startled and determined, though she does blink at the friendly looking man when he speaks to her.

"I don't know if it's morning." She glances at her dropped food and huffs at the apples that have fallen, not that she wouldn't eat them anyway, but if they end up fighting right now they might get damaged and she has no idea when she might find more down here.

"How do I know this isnae a trick?"

For her the translation wasn't at all a problem, even for her time there were enough encounters with the English in Scotland by now for her to be speaking it most of her life so any changes that do happen with her words she doesn't really notice, and is too concerned with figuring out if this man is going to cause trouble.
wadingpool: (Default)

Deadpool | various Marvel shit | Tribute

[personal profile] wadingpool 2014-11-30 03:57 am (UTC)(link)
[This is contrived. All of this. Old school. This is some fucked up shit pulled right from a B-grade movie. This is.. great. This is exactly what Deadpool looks for in a situation. It's by no means the weirdest thing that ever happened to him, because he's the weirdest thing that ever happened to him. He's yet to see anything top that. All he knows is there's a goal, a prize and about a hundred patsies standing between it and him. He has no doubt some of these people are seasoned warriors, but they have nothing on his 11 secret herbs and spices. He is the deluxe bucket of pain, winging it through this suspiciously empty Arena.

A sword was easy enough to acquire from the Cornucopia, he'd been lucky enough to arrive with his mask. Lucky? Is lucky the word? It's symbolic, they said, it'll mean more for the inevitable reveal. Right. He does recall somebody telling him his face was the best distraction, but that doesn't mean he isn't putting his stylists on his Jerk list for pummeling. That'll come later, when they crown him Next Top Model or whatever.

He's taking to the back passages and the lower depths of the course, seemingly unperturbed by the dark or..anything. Really. Given the fact that he's swinging his sword around, singing with no attempt to keep the volume low.]


Don't be shocked by the toooonnnne of my voice-ah. It's the new weapon, weapon of choice.

[And with that, he will mimic the movements of the popular dance whilst puncturing the air around him with his sword, scarred arms sweeping around in front of him.]

Ahh-- You can go with this,
Or you can go with that,
You can go with this,
Or you can go with that,
Or you can throw with us.
Doot, doot, doot. Love that song. Man, I miss when they played music here.
Edited 2014-11-30 03:58 (UTC)
undonevictory: (drama)

THE CAPITOL

[personal profile] undonevictory 2014-11-30 06:02 am (UTC)(link)
There was no air in here.

He needed to get away from this. There was enough help for District one, he didn't need to worry about abandoning anyone, even this early in the game. Still, as he pushed out of the room he felt the twist of gut in his stomach. These weren't careers, hard trained to survive this, these were innocents.

Maybe that was why he needed air so bad, just for a moment.

Pushing past an avox, he let out a quiet apology without thought to the fact the avox could not return it, before stepping out into the cool air of the courtyard. A few deep gulps of the cold air, and his shaking hand went fishing into his pockets for the ornate metal box his stylist left his cigarettes in. No crumpled paper package for a district one mentor.

Except his fingertips only curled around the lighter in his pocket, and nothing else. He let out a surprised sound of displeasure, as his two colored eyes jumped up to see if anyone near might have a smoke. The thought of trying to sooth his frayed nerves without one right now was not appealing.
darker_alice: (Dawning Comprehension)

Alice Liddell || American Mcgee's Alice/Alice: Madness Returns| Tribute

[personal profile] darker_alice 2014-11-30 07:24 am (UTC)(link)
Should she have expected this?

She had known, once the decision was made to leave the life of her weaker self behind, things would change. Madness would become a daily thing and the absurd, the unthinkable, her real life. Hadn't she seen London and her Wonderland merge to become Londerland, after she had rid herself of that beast of a doctor, that murderer of innocents? She thought herself ready for anything.

Not this. Where she could accept madness, laziness and an infuriating lack of knowledge of this place set Alice on edge. The planning of something so crude, so deserving of a street tavern conversation, angered Alice, and further still by the lack of clothing she was supplied. Really, she may as well be naked with what was left to the imagination. She could only imagine the perversions contained within this place.

There was little time to reflect on these things. She had access to little more than a hunting knife and found herself in an abandoned sort of place that seemed bound for transport once. Trains, though somewhat more advanced in its way. Its usefulness had expired long ago,it seemed. Ruins. That was familiar anyway.

Press on, then. She pulled crabbily at the thin material that was her garment and walked on, wondering what strange new things were in store.
darker_alice: (We are not amused.)

[personal profile] darker_alice 2014-11-30 07:32 am (UTC)(link)
"Might I have an apple?"

Polite. She had been lectured on her loss of manners at the orphanage, but so far as she was concerned, she was surrounded by wastrels and corrupt adults: they deserved nothing of her manners, for she was sure they gossiped of her in secret, laughing at how a girl of high end standing could fall so low. The worst kind of filth. They would not deserve any of her consideration.

A stranger, however, she would make an attempt. She had been polite once, after all. It helped also that she was hungry.

"A bow and arrow?" She eyed the weapons. "Miss, are you an archer then?"

Scottish, she supposed. Such lovely hair, it made one envious.
stubbornlittleshit: (gargoyle)

[personal profile] stubbornlittleshit 2014-11-30 08:20 am (UTC)(link)
It's becoming clear that Arno maybe took the wrong chance here, given her instincts, and the way she turns, with that arrow ready to go. There's still room to duck away, of course, or slide out of her path, or something if it's needed, though the weapon, even at so close a range could be a problem. It's just as well for Arno to flick his sleeve just enough that a small knife slips into his right hand. It isn't much, and damn does he miss having a hidden blade. Catching the knife he'd stuck in his sleeve is so awkward compared to the elegance of simply flicking his sleeve, but then, this place is what it is, and if what it is is a little clumsy, he'll have to make do for now.

And making due, apparently involves stepping closer, and attempting to hook an apple with his ankle, just in case he can kick it away even if she decides that he's bad news.

"If this were a trick, you'd already be on the floor." he answers, fully aware he hasn't backed that up just yet, his eyes scanning behind her for someone, or something to prove this with. Is killing someone who's supposed to be on your side a way to win potential allies? God knows he's done it before this anyway.

"I do this for a living. Did." He allowed an explanation, and then, spotting a rat of all things, tucked himself into a quick roll, blade at the ready as he pounced on the creature, grinning seconds later as he wrenched the knife free. "I am fast. And starving." There was a pause as he considered, then continued. "And bored. I can't cling to the ceiling watching all of you for ages. It may be strategy, but I'm TIRED of it."

That was a slight exaggeration as it had been a wall, but nobody had to know that yet.
Edited 2014-11-30 08:20 (UTC)
darker_alice: (Irritation)

Re: Deadpool | various Marvel shit | Tribute

[personal profile] darker_alice 2014-11-30 08:28 am (UTC)(link)
The dark was not an unknown place to Alice, and rats that were intent on attacking the girl soon found themselves looking the other way: she had been sure that some blood of their brethren dotted her flimsy clothing, and so they knew that woman was not one to be trifled with.

Not without large numbers anyway.

Alice meanwhile had taken to fading into the darker spots when needed. She was expected to kill, which was no stretch to her, but what sort of people was she to murder in cold blood? She could, couldn't she? Yes, of course, if they were after her, or even if the numbers needed to match. Killers did not stop to talk things through.

This particular man, however, truly baffled her. He spoke nonsense of course, but it was his manner she found most striking. He was masked at the head, curiously enough. Fashion had indeed taken a turn for the worse (he was so RED) but this was not the oddest thing. He seemed downright jovial, and this gave her pause. How long, then, had he been here.

Alice kept herself hidden, but spoke clearly enough.

"You. Sir. Why do you sing so gayly, knowing what has to happen here?"
Edited 2014-11-30 09:19 (UTC)
hirodynamic: (pic#8549116)

Hiro Hamada | Big Hero 6 | tribute

[personal profile] hirodynamic 2014-11-30 09:09 am (UTC)(link)
Find a weapon. Hide a lot. Try to survive.

After a whole lot of panicking and some very quick thinking, that has become Hiro's strategy. He gets the picture easily enough; he's some kind of gladiator, here to fight for some political reason he doesn't care much about--which is a scenario that would have made for a pretty cool movie, admittedly, though it isn't so great in real life.

It doesn't feel very much like real life, though, wandering the dark building all alone, his friends nowhere to be found. He manages to get his hands on a long cord and a small knife, and busies himself building a few traps to surround his hiding place with. He uses the cord to make a trip wire, suspending a ball of sharpened wood and broken glass above. If someone trips the wire--well, they'll be sorry.

"And now we wait," he mutters to himself, hunching in a dark corner and trying to ignore the way his stomach is rumbling. He tugs his knees up to his chest, tries not to think about Aunt Cass's bakery, and fails.

Then it becomes an exercise in trying not to cry.
gruesome: (Grue - from above)

helo from some: reboot flavor.

[personal profile] gruesome 2014-11-30 09:28 am (UTC)(link)
It's a nice effort. And if his only company in this game were bipeds who stayed on the floor, those traps would probably protect him pretty thoroughly.

But Some's been watching the other players, and they almost all stay on the floor. Some of them bother to look up, but they aren't using so much of this strange, man-made space. It's even easy climbing.

Or it would be, if people weren't hiding balls of horribly sharp things up here. He takes careful hold of the strand holding the thing up, turning it this way and that to look at it, and accidentally pulls it loose from the trip-wire with a ping.
hirodynamic: (Default)

[personal profile] hirodynamic 2014-11-30 09:48 am (UTC)(link)
Hiro's head snaps up at the sound of the trap being pulled. He's confused at first, since no one had tripped the wire, and he's worried he rigged it incorrectly or something--but then he looks up, and sees something straight from a sci-fi horror movie casually dismantling his trap.

"Whoa!" he shrieks, stumbling backward from where he'd ventured out of his corner to check on the trap. He grabs his knife, brandishing it, trying to seem imposing from his oh-so-impressive height of five feet.
gruesome: (G - Running)

[personal profile] gruesome 2014-11-30 10:09 am (UTC)(link)
Startled by the shout, he nearly flings the ball of sharp before he actually sees the source. Some freezes, six limbs bracing himself up in the high corner. The place is crawling with meatlings, but this is a child. Not what he'd expected.

Slowly, he stretched downwards, far enough that he could set the thing safely on the ground and hold out all four hands, placatingly. "No whoa. No knife. See?"
hirodynamic: (pic#8549121)

[personal profile] hirodynamic 2014-11-30 10:14 am (UTC)(link)
Whatever Hiro had been expecting, it certainly wasn't this. He narrows his eyes at the creature, still holding his knife, though not precisely with the intention of using it; his stance is all wrong. He's a planner, a thinker, a builder--not a fighter.

"Are you saying you aren't gonna try to kill me?" he says suspiciously. "'Cause isn't that the point of this whole thing? Kill-or-be-killed?"
gruesome: (Grue - Marks)

[personal profile] gruesome 2014-11-30 10:38 am (UTC)(link)
His main pair of eyes remained fixed on Hiro, though the lesser ones kept moving, watching the knife, the corridor, the ceiling. Some was no fighter either, but he didn't want to be taken by surprise. And sometimes meatlings moved in packs.

"... not me," he said stiffly. "Not a hunter. Not that hungry."
hirodynamic: (pic#8549120)

[personal profile] hirodynamic 2014-11-30 10:54 am (UTC)(link)
Hiro watched the eyes moving about, and became more and more intrigued despite himself. He'd never seen such a creature before, not in real life, and he was rather fascinating. Like a spider alien, sort of.

"And what happens if you do get hungry?" he questioned warily as he observed Some, trying to figure out just what he was and how he ticked.
gruesome: (Grue - disapproves)

[personal profile] gruesome 2014-11-30 10:58 am (UTC)(link)
That was an unpleasant question, Some discovered immediately. He clicked his teeth tensely, and glanced aside. And then he lied.

"There are animals. Isn't that what you do?"
chousenplayer: (Hold it down; DARE)

[personal profile] chousenplayer 2014-11-30 01:22 pm (UTC)(link)
Noodle isn't looking to kill anyone, despite what the blood on the end of her crowbar seems to suggest. No, like Hiro she was merely looking to survive, even as she wandered idly around the arena. She's exploring, committing passages to memory. Better to know the layout now, when it still seems calm rather then later when she finds herself needing to get away. If she needs to get away.

That doesn't mean she's not paying attention and she slows to a stop when she comes across the rope and it's not too hard to crane her head back and follow the path and yep. Yep, it was a trap and Noodle stays where she is, barely 5 foot and looking like she needs a few good meals and considers what she wants to do.

"Pretty clever," she calls out as finally, soft as she can, and she squints into the dimness rather than go to the flashlight shoved in the front of her waistband. Better to save the battery, and by now she's almost gotten used to the darkness anyway. She knows someone's out there anyway.
darker_alice: (cut pose)

Re: Hiro Hamada | Big Hero 6 | tribute

[personal profile] darker_alice 2014-11-30 02:32 pm (UTC)(link)
There was a stillness in the air Alice would have equated to walking through the Queen's keep on her second visit: quiet with an air of death that kept you on the balls of your feet. This place was nowhere near as terrifying, but deserved the same sort of caution. The uneasy state of the place she could adjust to, scaffolding she could manage, but people? They were unpredictable, the less she knew about them. A world of strange looking people with their own intentions and their own survival instincts.

So when she saw the trap, she tripped it deliberately: the string was light enough someone would overlook it, though she had to admire the ingenuity applied. The bits coming down she avoided quickly, and now she felt a little less amused, and her knife was out again, hunting for the perpetrator of the trap, ready to punish for the attempt at her life.

In the darkness, she actually trips over him in her search.

"BLOODY-" she begins, then stops. "Oh. A boy."

Well that certainly changed things.
hirodynamic: (pic#8566150)

[personal profile] hirodynamic 2014-11-30 02:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Hiro curls up a little tighter in his corner, trying to hold his breath. Someone's there, and though he badly wants to call out--to have some form of human contact, to make sense of all this--he knows that's a bad idea.

He does peer around the edge, squinting through the darkness to see who's there. It's a girl. Just a girl, about the same height and build as him, holding a crowbar. He doesn't say anything, but the top of his head and eyes are visible as he checks things out from a safe distance.
hirodynamic: (Default)

[personal profile] hirodynamic 2014-11-30 02:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Things had been dark, quiet, and very much like a nightmare until all of a sudden there's a person bodily crashing into him and Hiro barely has time to react.

He scrambles to his feet, knife in hand, holding it in both hands as he points it in the girl's direction.

"Back off!" he yells, even though she clearly isn't coming after him.

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