Panem Events (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thecircus2015-02-28 06:38 pm
etcircenses) wrote in thecircus2015-02-28 06:38 pm
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!
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, unbeknownst 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 gory detail between oohing and ahhing over the dinner. Tributes die; Citizens feast.
Everyone who's anyone is invited.
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, unbeknownst 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 gory detail between oohing and ahhing over the dinner. Tributes die; Citizens feast.
Everyone who's anyone is invited.
no subject
Rhodey's not paranoid -- at least, not yet -- but he is cautious. He's not about to let someone come up behind him, literally stab him in the back and walk away without a word. He listens to the steady, even pace of the footsteps approaching him, ready to make a break for it should they suddenly start racing towards him. But, thankfully, that never comes.
When they come close enough, Rhodey turns, carefully, not fast enough to startle. He takes in the man's defensive stance, his placating words and makes sure to keep his own hands away from the dagger at his side. He returns the gesture, bringing his hands up. He's still holding his bo staff, but he keeps it in hand, carefully pointing it at the ground.
"No," he agrees. There's no inkling of familiarity there. That will only come if Sam divulges which branch of the Air Force he's worked under, because he will certainly remember the Falcon project. But, as of now, Sam is a potential threat in a dangerous situation. He keeps his hands raised, his eyes and voice steady. "Neither am I."
no subject
Sam can't remember seeing him in an arena before, so he's got no idea which category he falls in. He still needs to play it safe, until he can be sure the man isn't going to jump him as soon as he turns his back.
"Sam Wilson." He introduces. Normally he'd shake the guy's hand, but, well. In the arena, good manners aren't exactly the most important thing. "You wake up right before they shove you in here?"
no subject
"Yeah," he agrees. "That's about the whole of it." It had been disorienting, if he's being completely honest. Maybe it would have been better if he'd been asleep with they brought him here, but he hadn't been. He'd been in flight, flying away with the president and the next thing he knew, he was here.
He thinks it would be all too easy to convince himself this isn't real, that it's nothing but a dream. But he also thinks that's exactly what they want him to do. After all, it's easier to commit dangerous and immortal acts if you don't think it's real or will cause any impact.
"It was Christmas when I left," he divulges, taking a good long look around the arena with a hint of a smile. "Somehow I get the feeling it's not Christmas anymore."
no subject
He's going to explain a little more, because damn it sucks getting thrown into the arenas with little idea what's up, but then James Rhodes clicks in his mind with why this guy looks so damn familiar. Sam's stance changes, guard dropping even more as his smile turns more genuine.
"James Rhodes as in Iron Patriot James Rhodes? Shit, man, no wonder I thought I recognized you. I'm friends with Tony, I was part of the EXO-7 project back home."
Sam doesn't bother to play it cagey in case he's wrong. By now, that's common knowledge around here, and Sam's had enough experience with alternates that he can play it off if this James Rhodes doesn't know what he's talking about.