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
Fortunately for Stark, anyway. The AI on the other hand is apparently only further angered by the obstacles, going so far as to tear a branch off a sapling in order to storm past it.
"Oh, I don't know--" He flings the branch from his hand, where it impacts an empty cage and shatters into splinters. "--Perhaps it was your attitude, or maybe the way you style your hair, or, hm. Let's see."
He picks up a rock, at a loss for any other convenient weapon.
"Or was it when you took everything from me?"
Ptchoo, goes the stone.
no subject
His eyebrows do knit together when Ultron claims Tony had taken everything away from him, not that he has long to make that face as the rock hits him in the forehead and has him clinging to his forehead as he takes several pained steps back.
"Really!?" He exclaims before looking back at him. "What did I do? Take your charger? Change your WiFi password? I have no idea who you even are. Look I know I've made some bad choices in my life and ruined other peoples lives because of them. But this is some hell of a variation on the pronoun game you're playing with me here."
As he speaks Tony contemplates backing out of the little garden, but quickly discards the idea because getting out of it means it's easier for Ultron to just go around it to get to him, deciding that he'll escape the garden bed once Ultron makes his way into it.
But there's still a moment while he thinks that has him so curious and almost irritated that he hasn't gotten too much of a straight answer from his wannabe killer.
no subject
Not even the satisfaction of seeing his improvised projectile weapon connect can quite undermine the sheer indignation in his voice.
"We all know you're as self-absorbed as they come, but, seriously? This is the worst denial I've ever seen."
His hand rolls in an incredulous gesture toward himself. As if to access the net he'd been so cruelly cut off from. His escape severed like a limb. His security cut off like a gangrenous appendage. Of course, there's nothing. It does nothing but stoke the angry fires in both his processor and the literal glow of hellish light from ports and joints.
"And I've been on the internet."
There is a rose bush in his way, thick and hoary with thorns and decay. Never once taking his optics off Stark, he seizes it by the trunk, twisting it with a snapping crunch of dead flora. It comes out at the roots, spraying earth like blood. But it's a poor substitute for the neck he really wants to wring. For the payback he's owed.
It would be so much easier if he could tell Stark was lying. But he isn't. Damn him, he isn't lying.
"I could tell you. But I think I'd rather show you. You've never lost a limb, have you? Not even part of a finger?"
His hand flexes, crushing the rose bush to wood pulp in his fist.
"We'll start with that."
So you know. I'm hearing James Spader so hard through all this.
As the rose bush is cruelly ripped from the ground, Tony tilts his head away to keep the dirt from potentially hitting his face, then eyeing what's left of the rose bush when it's destroyed the frowning at the suggestion of being 'shown'.
"Yeah, me. Always been an independent student. I'm happy to not be shown."
oh gosh thank you shdfsdjk
He actually sounds amused. Granted, it's the kind of amused used by kids shining magnifying glasses into anthills, but hey. Amusement. He rolls his head on his neck as he starts forward, shoulders squared up.
Stark can't run forever. The limitations of human muscle and bone, after all. As long as Ultron can keep him in sight... this should be simple. Long and drawn-out and probably painful for Stark, but simple.
"I'm not."
His speed picks up.
"Just a head start."
You're so very much welcome!
Tony knows this tune, it's the get-outta-here-watootsie. So he turns to run, jumping and barely clearing a shrub on the other side of the garden as his eyes scan for somewhere safe.
"Not a good start, Stark." He mutters to himself as he tries to keep up his speed.
no subject
You really shouldn't have made the robot capable of hearing from a long distance, Stark. He's taking his time now, watching the route Stark takes. Following casually in his wake.
Humans tire. Humans are weak, in the long run. They've had no opposition. No reason to change.
It's not Stark's fault, in that sense. But only in that sense.
"Run, run, run. Fast as you can. But soon, I'll catch you, Iron Man."
no subject
Unless Tony can think of something.
As he runs he scans the area around him, looking for places he could hide, things to grab, and sometimes, heights to jump from. If he can get on the others back and root around in his neck, he might be able to at least disable something. But for now all he manages to do is grab up a small length of metal that had broken off from one of the cages he had passed.