The Family Mock Arena

[etcircenses]

That morning, all the Tributes and their visitors are roused early by Escorts, Stylists and gaggles of "fashion interns", all of whom appear to be vying for the attention of the head Stylists more than their assigned competitors. Everyone's dressed in frilly outfits, all ruffs and bustles, and then ushered out to the helicopters that will take them to the nearest Arena.

The Escorts, even though many of them aren't terribly good at looking concerned for their Tributes' well-being, seem even less bothered than usual, and reassure everyone that this Arena is "just for fun" and "won't last long". The Tributes and their visitors are led to the tubes to their pedestals.

"The goal is to be the last one hit," the Escorts say, and the Stylists fuss over how they should take care of their clothes in the Arena.

The Arena appears to be a baseball diamond, and the Cornucopia lies at the batter's cage. There are no supplies, but weapons include marshmallow guns and plastic pool noodles. Both marshmallows and pool noodles are covered in wet glittery paint. The Arena's confines extend up into the bleachers, but otherwise it's a relatively straightforward and uncluttered playing field.

If any Tribute or visitor steps off the platform before the end of the countdown, they'll be sprayed with confetti and sequins. The countdown begins, a cheery, chiming voice reading out numbers like a kindergarten teacher.

"Three...two...one...go!"

Comments

[polyturtle]

The first feeling which Don felt was absolute dread. An Arena? Now? And with the visitors, he immediately concluded one thing: all of the Visitors were going to be killed off as an example--

...But then why was there so little...care? Usually the Escorts were...well, more attentive. It was like no one was even trying. Was this the end? Or-

--or a complete mockery of their entire time here, Don realized as the platform was raised. It certainly explained the ruffles he was put in. And--were those styrofoam noodles covered in glitter?

Don didn't even step off his platform for the first minute, even after the gong sounded. He simply stood, mouth agape, at what he was witnessing.

[earthborn]

There was the eternal mad dash for the Cornucopia, but Shepard could tell right away that something was off. For one thing, the Escorts were explaining things everyone already knew— and for another...

Well, there had never been an arena this small.

So, pragmatic as ever, she picked up a weapon, and— piff! Friendship and loyalty, like so many things in this world, has come to nothing but glitter and the marshmallow flavoring of betrayal.

"Got something on your face there, Don."

Tastes like victory.

[polyturtle]

"...Ah."

Now he was covered in glitter. It did snap him out of his shock, at least.

"...I can see that."

[carnagecarnival]

There's a noise coming from somewhere further off. It goes every other moment, like a promise coming to fruition.

"Honk! Honk! Honk!"

Out of the way motherfuckers Gamzee motherfucking Makara is coming through.

And then one finally "Honk!" And there's a whap from a glittery pool noodle to follow for Don.

"Gotcha motherfucker!" Gamzee cheers. Not far of, a glitter coated Kurloz covers his stitched mouth with a hand, to portray laughter. And in that time, Gamzee takes a closer look and says, "Whoa, you is like as like to be looking just like a motherfucking shellbeast, my ninja."

[hit_girl_mindy]

"What the fuck," Mindy mumbled, staring at what was before them. She wasn't even in this stupid Arenas anymore, were they breaking that already? She was still grabbing her bearings, and while she normally would have been pissed, she had actually been catching up on sleep for once. Had she been more awake, she would have been concerned about seeing her dad die again, what with a new Arena at hand. However, Mindy had confidence in her old man, and seeing what their weapons were, she snickered.

"Ready to dispense Nerf inspired justice dad?"

[nickcageasbatman]

He had been tense and bent at the knees prepared to launch himself into the fray, only to straighten up and look confused and suspicious at the seemingly childish and safe playground they had been offered.

"Are we sure that isn't some kind of surprise poison." He half joked, tentatively stepping off his pad.

[gruesome]

The ruffles, on Some in particular, look perfectly ridiculous. But he's too concerned with his mother, his mother in an Arena, no matter how benign it looks. The sticky sweet and foul one had looked harmless too. Even so, he couldn't force himself off of the platform before the countdown.

"Mother!"

[calledmenasir]

Nasir had only been in one arena before and so he did not notice the difference in the Escorts' reactions. He wished he could say the same about these ridiculous outfits. But he couldn't even enjoy the new look on Agron and tease him for it. He was too nervous as they were taken to the next Arena in this strange-- thing that flew in the sky like a bird.

Between that and his concern for his brother, who would not last for long in an arena, and Agron, who would lose it entirely if one of them died, all Nasir could do was sit still, clenching his hands into fists, and worry.

That was until he actually got to the arena. All the anxiety did not disappear so much as immediately transform into mortification.

Gods, what were those things? Did they expect them to fight with-- they glittered.

Nasir shook his head and briefly pressed his face to his hand before looking up again.

Oh yes, he was a fine gladiator.

He lazily stepped off the podium once the countdown ended and made his way to Agron and Faizan, without any care for winning this mockery of an arena.

[quarrels]

Coaxing Agron into the ludicrous outfit in the first place had been an ordeal worthy of an arena all on its own. It was all too grossly Roman for his liking - restrictive, useless, unnecessary and largely insulting. Now, still stood on his podium and instantly contemptuous enough of his surroundings to ignore them entirely, all Agron can think to do is rid himself of it completely. Furiously ripping away white-knuckled handfuls of taffeta and ruffled silk, he worked himself in to a fair frenzy as he wrestled with his outfit: threads and ribbons snapped easily as Agron tore away at vast expanses of his clothes, sending gaudy tatters of lamé and velour floating away at every fistful he shredded away from his torso.

"This is it?" He demanded in a breathless exclamation of disbelief as Nasir approached. "This is your fucking arena?"

Wyatt and Doc

[the_marshal]

Wyatt wasn't especially surprised when they came for him again - they'd already let that particular cat out of the bag, after all - but the new faces, young and strange, where normally it was only him and the escort in the loading room did get the wheels turning in his head. With a growing unease, he let himself be ruffled, trying to think like the Capitol as he stepped into his tube.

What they were planning. What lesson they were likely trying to teach.

What he found in the waiting arena was the very last thing he'd expected.

Watching someone on a pedestal disappear in a cloud of glitter as they stepped off a fraction too soon, he was still rooted dumbly to the spot when the countdown finished.

[imyerdaisy]

Doc Holiday could hardly be more amused, flirting with one of the good looking women that was dressing him up in more ruffles than he'd ever seen in one place, and was happy enough to find her blushing that he was grinning when he stepped onto the platform. Wyatt had told him about the Arenas, of course, but he wasn't particularly bothered by it. After all Wyatt himself had come back from the dead nine times, hadn't he? Why even be concerned with it?

When he reached to the top and saw the set up, he had to admit he was a little underwhelmed. Now, he didn't know much about modern technology, but he was fairly certain that swords in every era were meant to be sharp...

When the gong went off he ran forward. Whatever they were, he was going to get himself one, and he grabbed the thing closest to him that looked anything like a gun.

Prince Ronald of the Southern Isles.

[dem_sideburns]

Ronald had to admit, it was pretty funny.

But it was also a competition so he would stride with purpose to the weapons, ducking under a man swinging for him with a noodle and using another poor visitor as a shield. It was a popular tactic back when he and his brothers would spar even if it was playing dirty.

Ronald had never been afraid of playing dirty though which was why he stepped onto a noodle someone had been reaching for and promptly popped them in the nose with one of his thick scarred fists.

"The game is on!" He declared proudly duel wielding noodles.

Re: Prince Ronald of the Southern Isles.

[hit_girl_mindy]

Well, if he was game on showing his strength? Mindy was going to show him how strong and quick she was. Bulk and strength was always ready to fall when you targeted their weak points.

Mindy ducked quickly under his legs and went for a hit in the back of the head.

Damon Macready

[nickcageasbatman]

It was some good old fashioned, messy fun.

To be fair, Damon would have preferred if they'd been playing actual baseball. The American pass time was something he missed about going underground for his war on the mob. They couldn't go to all the games that he wanted to.

Of course being a dead man would make that even more difficult from here on. Did the Capitol even have proper baseball?

With a noodle in hand he began his assault, back to back with Mindy opening fire with marshmellows covered in glittery paint.

Big Daddy had come home and he had some sparkly and hot pink issues to work out.

[polyturtle]

Well, it took a little bit for Don to recover from his moment of what the shell is this. When he did, though, he sprung into action, If only because he preferred not to be covered in glitter and marshmallows.

Indeed, he started to charge in the direction of Damon, intent on snagging some "weapons". Not from Damon, though. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. This was apparently supposed to be pretend and happy, somehow.

So, say hello to the unusually large turtle running towards you, Damon.

Nathan Ford (For Eliot)

[one_honest_man]

This... was not at all what Nathan Ford was expecting. The violence bit though, hey he had Eliot there, Eliot was good at hitting things he was good at strategies.

And this... made him wonder if he had somehow wondered into one of Parker's chocolate fueled nightmares!

The mastermind remembered to wait for the countdown to finish and despite knowing they had to be serious, couldn't help but laugh when he caught someone actually getting hit in the face with glitter when they didn't wait.

The others were moving and he stepped off the platform. "More your arena not mine." He'd at least stick close to Eliot because really he could fight, but Eliot was better at it.

[retrieverchef]

The hitter grabbed a marshmallow gun and tossed it to Nate. Then he grabbed a pair for himself. "But it's for you," he retorted, giving his friend a slightly strained smile. "And I know you can shoot."

Cyrus Reagan (for anyone!)

[currupted]

Cyrus Reagan is in the middle of the fray.

He hadn't intended to be. He'd thought, when they came for him this morning, when every narrowed-eyed hiss of Do you have any idea who I am? had gone unheard, when they'd stuck him in a suit with a frill at every joint and put him on the pedestal, that he wouldn't participate. That he would stand, stony-faced, in one place, and remain in some small way above this farce.

Then, he'd ducked a "bullet" from a marshmallow gun by bare inches, stumbled off the platform, and narrowly jumped a foam noodle swinging at his ankles, all in what felt like half a second - and the next thing he knew, he'd had that noodle in his hands and a sudden wild determination that he was going to win.

"Out of my way," he snarls at anyone who comes within range of glittery foam weapon - Cyrus has never been the violent type, but he has thirty years of pent-up District-focused condescension to unleash, and it looks like any landed blow will sting.

[finnickohdear]

Finnick was set to just let himself be tagged out so he could leave. He didn't have anything to prove and the whole kidnap and shove you in a tube process had already left him wanting nothing more to do with anything. Too many bad memories. But he sees Cyrus grab a foam noodle and suddenly all the panic and anger resolves itself into one fine point of light, and that point of light is about to get his ass noodled all the way back to his cushy Capitol home.

Finnick grabbed a noodle of his own and kept to his own until he had a good chance to corner Cyrus. Then he comes out with noodle at the ready.

"Funny seeing you here."

Re: Cyrus Reagan (for anyone!)

[carnagecarnival]

There's a tall horned boy passing by, oblivious to the person leaking not-quite-murderous intent on any who get near. There's a grin on his face and his eyes are searching the twinkling fray, eager to join in again with it all. It seems he has not yet been covered in glitter.

It's the perfect opportunity, the perfect chance. He won't see it coming.

But Kurloz will.

The mute Makara leaps out suddenly, arms spread to protect Gamzee against what blow may come.

Gale -- open

[simpletrap]

Everything about this pissed Gale off. The ridiculous clothes -- "Who wears these?" -- the titters of the stylists and escorts, and the sheer excess of it all. How much had it cost, he wondered, to produce this much glitter -- a substance with no purpose besides its appearance?

Not unlike some Capitol citizens, he thought.

Gale had thought of stepping off his pedestal early, just to end this on his own terms, but he was suspicious of this whole event and didn't actually have a death wish. What if there was something nasty about those sequins?

Therefore, the start of the Arena saw Gale retreating up into the bleachers, taking a gun as he went -- not shooting yet, but observing the pandemonium below. Was anyone poisoned or falling into hidden traps? Gale didn't want to play along, but he wasn't stupid, either.

[earthborn]

Shepard had glitter in her hair, glitter on her clothes, sparkles everywhere. Who cares? Well, she'd rather be using paint, maybe. Or fighting holograms, now there was a nice, guilt-free target. Still, it's not for real, this time. It's....cute. Then the Capitol's not being sadistic, they're decent at "cute."

Now, most people, when faced with a fight that featured projectiles, would not retreat up the bleachers, but duck behind. Look for cover, make yourself less of a target.

Ah, Gale. You sweet summer child. Now you must die. Foam-noodle javelin— away!

[carnagecarnival]

Kurloz, now solidly glitter coated, stands in contrast to Gamzee, not yet having managed to be "killed". But maybe he just ain't looking in the right place. That glittery goodness playing all elusive to him.

It doesn't take long for Gamzee to decide he wants a swap. He and Kurloz exchange pool noodle for gun. Creeping close, Gamzee readies the marshmallow shooter, Kurloz keeping just as quiet as he follows behind-- despite Gamzee trying to wave him off.

Brother on the bleachers was looking pretty down, he thought. Maybe he could him cheer up this way. And then maybe he'll join in and Gamzee can get in on the stardust action too.

Finally, he takes aim and says, "Nugs up, motherfucker!" and he shoots.

Initiate, Kurloz, and Gamzee | OTA (for any of them)

[carnagecarnival]

His alter seems to be admiring the ruffles up until they're brought onto the helicopter, and his descendant keeps dancing about so that they swish and move around him. The Initiate meanwhile can only wonder what all kind of arena could possibly exist wherein all these damn ruffles could be of any kind of use. Surely it will be detrimental. He can rip them off later but it will make the initial cornucopia run a pain in the glutes surely.

And he's right; when they rise up the tubes to the arena, it's not something where ruffles would be any kind of reasonable. But then nothing about the arena seems to be. It's small, there are no supplies, the half the weapons can hardly be called such, and the escorts have been acting strange about the whole thing and now that they're here and able to look around at it all, it's still unexplained.

In all this, he almost misses the sight of his descendant, wobbling on the spot. Gamzee arms start whirling and waving. He's too far to the edge. They'll blow him to bits and he won't even have time to--

His alter reacts before he does, leaping off the platform, arm out stretched, and the Initiate knows he intends to push Gamzee back on, but there's not a goddamn way he'll reach, his alter will die for something so stupid, there will be two corpses with his image, two smears of purple right at the start spread out beside him, and somehow his pan still has time to wonder what will happen to him if his past life dies here. His alter's foot hits ground, his bloodpusher halts, Gamzee stills.

And glitter bursts forth.

The Initiate's mouth hangs open. He waits for something to happen; a delayed explosion, corrosive glitter. There's nothing. His alter looks surprised too, peering at his hands and the rest of him. Then slowly, that stitched lipped smile spreads. He reaches down to the ground, picks up some glitter, and tosses it skyward, doing a little twirl in it.

"Go~!" The cheery announcer says, and Gamzee grins ever wider than his alter. "Haha, shiiiit, look at this shimmering shine show what all we got our motherfucking selves!" He says, and he hops down off the platform too.

Gamzee's running for the glittery pool noodles but not out of necessity, just want and excitement. He picks one up and wields it, laughing and ready to swing. His alter walks leisurely to pick up a gun, then shooting it at the ground. He blinks, shoots at his hand, then holds out the white "bullet" to an excited Gamzee, who then eats it. The Initiate's alter looks at him and beams, encouraging, and only then does he numbly step off his own platform. He picks up a pool noodle for himself, raises a brow. His alter nods. "Aight, fuck it," He says in response, and finally he breathes. There's more glitter here than he's seen since he was at a proper carnival and apparently they're not dying just yet. So mirth damn it all, he might as well enjoy it.

Re: Initiate, Kurloz, and Gamzee | OTA (for any of them)

[sleeplessinalternia]

"GAMZEE, NO!" Karkat screams, as he sees his best friend tumble off and it's all he can do not to jump off and join him in death. But his survival instinct is, as ever, too strong and so he ends up staying on the platform until the glitter bursts forth and then he's running towards Gamzee, grabbing him by the collar, and yelling in his face. "You unbelievable moron," he shouts. "I thought you were going to explode."

Then he lets go of Gamzee, wraps his arms around him, and holds on tightly, all the while growling things like "idiot" and "stupid shitty clown" and "I was worried for you" and "don't you ever scare me like that again."