Ladies and Gentlemen...

[etcircenses]

The Capitol has ordered its people inward. Some move weary, knowing now some of the reason for their displacement, but they move, closer and closer to the reach of the President. It is said the children will be allowed in here past the heavy guard. But with all the distrust shaken into the core of the Capitol and the Peacekeepers at its heart, it’s not impossible to slip away. Surviving the traps to escape, however, is another story.

Outside the Capitol, the Districts line-up. In the month since the last battle, the stalemate Districts, 9 and 6 were won over. Districts 8, 10, and 1 have fewer of their number, but their rebel leaders have shown up and all the survivors with them. District 13 joins soon after, led by Webb and the Offworlders. It’ll be slow going for the Districts, but some of the Offworlders and allies have been tasked with leading the way in navigating the minefield that is the Capitol.

The Quarter Quell making up the 75th Hunger Games reached its end, but the Games themselves aren’t over yet. With all the war to prepare, the Gamemakers enlisted to work will be throwing out their best. Every arena needs it’s finale…

And there, patrolling, armed and ready to meet the traitors between the traps are the Peacekeepers. It’s their lives on the line too and they won’t be going down without a fight.

Welcome to the 76th Hunger Games.

Comments

Open to all

[beckstitch]

[Day 1]

[This is what she's been afraid of, ever since she was old enough to understand that rebellion was even a possibility. The enemy is at the gate, and if they get in, nobody she loves will be safe. Nobody.]

[She's glad, now, that she enlisted. It means she can at least try to do something, try to dam this tide before it's too late. Her friends from the city are being pulled back, escorted to safety. Beck isn't with them. She's right there on the front lines, in Peacekeeper uniform, with her gun readied for the fight]

[She's been on a few battlefields now, but to tell the truth, she still hasn't shot anybody. She's tried, but she's still learning to handle a gun, and she's been crippled by doubt, afraid of shooting an innocent instead of a Rebel. Afraid, if she's honest, of shooting Emily, too]

[But right now, she's consciously putting all that aside. There's no space for it. They're coming for her, for her home, and she can't let them take it from her]

[Luckily, her aim's still not brilliant, so any Rebels she finds are in with a fighting chance]


[Day 2]

[She listens to Cecil's broadcast, and she really isn't sure what she's feeling. The thing is, she can't hate him for it, and she isn't sure she can even hate the Avoxes for turning on their masters. Her unusual upbringing has left her with a lot more sympathy for the voiceless servants than she'd admit to, and part of her is actually glad at the thought that they can be free. They've been her parents, her whole family, as long as she can remember. She wants their nightmare to be over]

[At the same time, she's afraid, horribly afraid, because this more than ever drives home that nothing will ever go back to normal. Not after this. And that fear makes her angry, and sad, and a whole knot of other emotions she can't quite place]

[It's a little easier, behind her mirrored visor, to try and step into the role of Peacekeeper, and to fight. She actually shot someone yesterday, and to her surprise, that makes it easier to try again. To think of it as a duty, something that could be done and must be done. Even with Avoxes, who can't really be blamed for following orders. Even then.]

[You might catch her patrolling, or trying to find a clear spot to take aim]

[Or you might find her in the late afternoon, with her gun dropped and her helmet off, cradling a dead female Avox whose blood is staining Beck's white uniform. She's crying, and barely seems aware of the fighting around her, just at the moment.]

Day 2

[conifer]

[She'd dreaded having to kill again, seeing the faces of scores of children she's failed to protect in every corpse she steps around. To be seen to be killing in the name of Thirteen is especially distasteful to her after her own treatment at their hands, no matter how much the friends who'd stuck by her assured her that the rottenness at the core of the Rebel District had been cut away. She's armoured but her head is uncovered; Victors had to be seen, after all, especially in this most decisive battle. Emily herself is pretty sure that she's not contributing much toward inspiring anyone -- she looks worn out both physically and emotionally, and just wants to get this over with. Either the Capitol goes down or she does, and she's long past caring which wins out.

When she rounds the corner and sees a Peacekeeper, however, everything else is forgotten. She harbours particular resentment toward them now, after being stupid enough to befriend their commanding officer and face the ultimate betrayal from them. They were nothing more than symbols of the Capitol's brutality, and they needed to be destroyed, every last one of them.

She steps forward into the street, firing the gun that's far too heavy for her and still doesn't feel quite right in her arms. The shot goes wide, and she continues striding forward, closing the distance between them so that her next shot won't miss.]

Open!

[voiceinthephone]

Day 1

It's been almost five months, possibly even more since Phil had stepped out of the boundaries of Thirteen and head towards the massive Capitol walls. He left this place in a train bound for the ill-fated Victory Tour, and so to must it come to an end. But he's not here to engage in combat, at least not actively. With a simple handgun and knife as his weapons, he sets out to find stragglers and those hurt by the battles. Even the Capitolites had become distrustful of Snow's command, willing to make their home into one final Arena and for what? For a man whose only drive was to keep himself alive and in power?

Either way, he makes a small click sound with his tongue, alerting his fox companions to start the search for supplies and people trapped or injured. Phone Guy's best work was always behind the scenes, clean up the mess, have the people get back up and let them shine. Losing Jeremy and Shep broke Gray's heart, but he had no time to mourn. There was a job to be done, one last stretch and maybe, just maybe he could finally sleep a good night's rest. But for now, he continued his sweeps around the first zone, looking for signs of life.

"Hello? Hello? Anyone in there?" he calls out into abandoned buildings, not caring if someone was brandishing a weapon. He knows he's vulnerable, but he can't break his promises, he's determined to make sure that those he finds are taken care of. If he so readily renounced his death back home, he'd better make the most of it.

Day 2

Zone Two was a disaster in so many ways, but in the Avox Liberation, Phone Guy felt somewhat vindicated. He still remembered the harsh and uncaring words Jason Compson had towards Avoxes but seeing them wreck their owners' homes, there was still something inherently human left. That something was rage and the desire for freedom. He sometimes wondered what became of that man full of loathing and vitriol, probably ran off into the wilderness with Miss Swann. Phil made a note to apologize to her, she'd been right all along when it came to Alma Coin.

An Avox threatened to seize Alby, thinking it was a Capitolite pet before Phil called out, "HEY!" That kit was the last thing Phone Guy had of Jeremy's and he made a promise to take care of the critter until his last breath. But in saving the little pet, he made himself vulnerable, open for capture…or to welcome old allies into the fray.

Day 1

[foundafamily]

Firo'd ducked inside the building to catch his breath and cast around for anyone who much be hiding there. As he's searching, he hears someone moving near the doorway and is primed to react--but then he hears that voice. He'd recognize it anywhere.

Firo pops out of the darkness, his knife still in his hand but not raised to attack. "Phil?! Hey, don't shoot, I'm not gonna come at you."

He doesn't truly believe his friend would attack him, but it bears mentioning when Firo's nominally on the Capitol side. At least, he wears the uniform. He promptly forgot any orders he was given in favor of his own priorities--finding the friends he hasn't seen in far too long.

Day 2

[justoutrunyou]

The Avox hesitated, conflicted by the order to rebel and otherwise wreck shit, and Phil shouting. That hesitation would be it's undoing as a shot rang out and the Axox crumpled.

Not dead, moving and clutching at it's leg. The shooter lowered her weapon with an impassive look, the owner of that Avox might want it back eventually so the damage was minor just...painful.

Sandy turned her attention to Phil studying him from a distance and then raising her weapon again. The only reason there was hesitation at all was because seeing Phil was enough to stir up her rebellious side again even if she wasn't in control yet.

She was dressed in Peacekeeper whites, save for the helmet which she had opted out of.

Day 2

[porcelainandsteel]

It was the voice. She knew that voice. For the first time since the fighting had started, Sansa forgot her fear and her desperation and ran headlong towards the shout. She was carrying a gun, but two days into the battle, she hadn't yet fired a shot; she let it drop when she rounded the corner, raising both hands to wave. "Phillip!"

Gods be good, he's alive! That's all she can think, as she offers up a silent prayer of thanks to any gods who might be listening. She'd been so afraid, in all this, that they were all gone - for the moment, in her relief, she forgets they're on different sides, forgets her caution, and is just thoroughly, unguardedly happy to see him.

Open; Day 1

[didnothing]

It's only been a few months since Luna was last in the Capitol, but as the rebels start to move in on the city it seems to be a completely different place. The streets are devoid of the bustle she once marveled at, and with that everything seems a little less colorful. Together with the air of danger and the fear of traps around every corner, the city seems a much different place now.

She heads in once some scouts have reported back and some others have gone into the city, armed with only a medical kit and her own determination. Luna still has no combat skills and even less desire to harm others, but there's a long battle ahead and the more people she can keep alive the better. She doesn't stray too far from the group she entered the city with just yet, but she does venture out in search of anyone in need of help.

Before long she's in one of the Capitol's outer streets staring one of the new threats in the face, in the form of molten lava flowing outward from...she doesn't know where. The obvious solution is to start running away from it, but however the Gamemakers have gotten the lava here they've managed to engineer the flow so that it's advancing at a speed too close to her own for comfort.

It's not as if she wants to be engineered for fighting, but as she starts running back the direction she came from as fast as she can Luna's starting to regret not being built for above-average speed at least.

[foundafamily]

Firo has no intention of following the orders given to him and the other Capitol soldiers. He cares little now that they can hold nothing over him--they can't send him home, so what does he care if they see him being disobedient? The important thing is just to find his friends.

He sees Luna bolting down the street and would be relieved if not for how obviously in a hurry she is. He slows, then turns back the way he was coming from to run alongside her. "Luna! Where's the fire?"

He quickly regrets his choice of expression when he looks over his shoulder and sees what she's fleeing.

"Come on, have you seen any higher ground we can get to here? Like a fire escape?"

Somehow, he doubts the Capitol has many of those, but maybe they have something similar.

[porcelainandsteel]

She ought to hesitate, but she doesn't. Luna might be the enemy, might be serving the Rebels Sansa genuinely wants to fail, but... but Luna is still her friend, the best friend she's made here, and Sansa can see the lava threatening.

You can still escape, she tells herself, but her feet are already carrying her forwards. You can leave her and get to safety. She's come back before. She will again. Except that she won't. Sansa knows that, in her gut; if Luna dies now, she's never coming back. Besides, 'it's not really real' is one thing to think, and another to feel, when your friend is about to die in front of you.

Sansa lowers her head and runs like she's never run before, swinging around next to Luna and grabbing for her hand.

"Come on!" she shouts. "There's a hill this way, if we can get to high ground...!"

Open To All

[justoutrunyou]

Day 1

Moving through the city cautiously in her Peacekeeper whites Sandy still somehow manages to keep a low profile among the fleeing civilians and advancing rebels.

Normally she would run through these streets at full speed or maybe take her hover cycle but she doesn't want to risk setting off any of the traps. She does draw out a knife though every time she moves too close to the deadly plant life.

The tiny bits of her real personality that had burned through when Shepard said her goodbyes had fallen dormant yet again. The Capitol influence over her mind was strong and exhausting to battle. So her expression remained stoic and impassive as she watched the world fall down around her.
_________________________________________________________
Day 2
The rebellion of the Avox is a problem.

Sandy had heard the words and it stirred something in her. Something her brainwashing was struggling to quash. Perhaps it was because of the similarities in how her mind had been damaged by the Capitol but the command of "Survive" had overridden her command to die for the Capitol.

If that made her less or more of a threat to others was anyones guess.

Light footed even in Peacekeeper boots Sandy manages to inch her way around dreamcatcher traps, noting where they are in case she encounters some rebels. Perhaps she can use these threats to her advantage in a quick retreat.

The birds are something else entirely. She watches from a distance as they swarm an unwitting Capitolite stripping them clean. Before she might have shuddered or looked away but now she studies them carefully trying to decide if her stone skin will be enough to keep her alive should they swarm her.

Perhaps you've caught her while she's studying the birds, or run into her while she's trying to negotiate her way around the avox riots. Expensive furniture ruined, even more expensive and tacky clothes being set on fire in somewhat silent protest.

Somehow she can't bring herself to stop them and their uprising even if the Capitol would want that of her.

After all they're just following orders aren't they?

____________________________________________________

Day 3

This could be trouble.

Somehow Sandy had gone and gotten herself cornered by a...well a monster. Some beast with black and white striped fur and more fangs and claws then any natural being should need.

It was advancing on her slowly and she was studying it with a look of disinterest. Would one shot from her rifle be enough to put this thing down? It would have to be, because unless someone came along to distract it she wasn't going to get a second shot off. Carefully she took her aim...

Let's DO THIS- Day 3

[knifewithnoname]

BANG A shot from a rifle that was not Sandy's sounded in the air. This peacekeeper still has her helmet on and until now had been single mindily on target. Clean up. Move. Kill any rebels she found. Ensure all non combatant Capitol citizens adhered to the evacuation orders.

Simple, efficient. This peacekeeper was good at following orders. The training had gone well, the Capitol was pleased at how quickly she had succumb to their mind influence.

This was the first time she had gone off course. Peacekeepers were peacekeepers, they could look after themselves. Everyone for themselves. The goal was important. Stop the rebels. Protect the city.

Except something about this one, the girls rifle had shot at the monster before her brain caught up. She readied another shot, now she had engaged keeping going was the only way forward. The helmeted face didn't spare Sandy another glance, but the small figure was squared off against the monster.

Ready for a fight.

Open to All

[revvinguptheharley]

Day 1

Somehow Harleen always knew she would be killed by plants eventually.

It seemed fitting given how things had ended in Gotham, but then again hadn't Ivy forgiven her?

Well either way she was snagged by one of the Capitol's own topiaries and sure enough it was wrapping around her and dragging her closer so it could finish her off.

With a scream of terror the no longer crazy blond opened fire on the bush with her rifle watching leaves explode like confetti, but it only slowed down the genetically modified plant.

"HELP MEEEEEE!"

__________________________________________

Day 2

"No no no no no!!!"

Running through the streets it seemed Harleen had gotten herself in trouble again. This time being chased by a swarm of nasty songbirds with needle like teeth. As one latched onto her arm she let out a shriek of pain and swatted it off, losing a chunk of her flesh with it making tears stream down her face.

In a desperate panic she threw one of her grenades to try and scare the beasts away but they simply shot past the explosive as it detonated behind them making them look even more intimidating when backlit by incendiary.

So look out! If you can't help her stop the birds she'll be leading them right to you!

______________________________________________

Day 3

Harleen may have lost some of her sense of humor, but even she could see the dark comedy in how every one of these muttations seemed set on trying to kill her.

"N-now...lets not do anything hasty..." She whimpered backing down the street as a pair of snarling Komodimeras advanced upon her. "Can't you tell I'm on your side? I-I'm with the capitol even if I don't want to be!" She flinched as a throbbing migraine reminded her that she wasn't allowed to speak ill of the Capitol no matter how hard that was sometimes.

"A-and I'm an animal lover. Honest! Back home I would have loved a couple of c-cute...smiling...bloodthirsty b-babies...like you..."

The beasts didn't seem impressed and lunged for her. Only her instinctive agility kept her alive as she threw herself to the wall and kicked off it getting just enough air to launch over the monsters and start running down the street with them nipping at her heels.

"I'm not ready to die yet! I'm not ready!!!!" She protested in her panic.

3

[dividedgirlofmine]

There's a loud crack in the air and one of the komodimeras falls, a bullet through its head. Another crack from the shotgun and the other komodimera falls too.

On top of a nearby building, a sniper in white and a peacekeeper's helmet waits in position. Harley's rescuer?

2. apparently harley gets all the gunslingers :p

[atouchofka]

Alain was bleeding in a few places, where the birds had caught him by surprise while he was focusing on other targets. He didn't seem to notice that, though. He could deal with that later, when there was a little respite. For now, he had shut off the part of his mind that dealt with trivial things like that, and let the world narrow to the battle.

That didn't mean he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, though. He heard the scream, and the explosion, from around the corner.

He reloaded, moving fast but not rushing, and turned on his heel to stride towards the sounds. When he rounded the corner, his gun was already raised, but he didn't fire - not on her, and not on the birds attacking her, although he was certainly going to have to do something about those before too long.

"I know you. Whose side are you on?"

[furgood]

Day 2 (For Phi)

The streets are so deserted. It's the Capitol as she's only seen it once, in a frosty morning where the world was still asleep, but even then there had been a sense of life. A buzz in her veins that told her people existed behind walls and life went on. Now, there's nothing. She doesn't need to hear to know it must be dead quiet. It's a silence that is so thick one can taste it.

Carefully, Meulin picks her way across already exposed traps and hopes against hope that her next step is not her last. She's been lucky, had the dumbest of luck really, but when has she not? Life had been a series of just lucky enough. With that record, a trap would leave her with her life but little else. She steps lightly.

Ahead, there's someone. Instantly, Meulin forgets to be cautious, throws herself behind a pillar and peeks out carefully. Her hair gives her away before she can see and so she's not the best at this, but that fickle luck is on her side. White hair cut in that particular way and she was short, shorter even than her. Meulin looks both ways, behind her, ahead past Phi, then steps out and waves frantically. Was this a trap? Maybe. What is she doing out here, why didn't she go in to the evacuate? The idea that it's not, that this is actually the girl in the flesh, is still enough to get her to call out.

"Phi!" It was meant to be a loud whisper but comes out loud, too loud, but there's no one around to hear, no one but them.


Day 3 (For Kurloz)

The Capitol is the same. It is forever changed. The streets they walk through are cleared of people, though not of the detrius of sudden evactuation and war. Ahead, there's the remains of a discharged pod. It litters dead birds over trash, forgotten bits of clothing, the shattered remains of a window. Her gaze follows the window back, to the house whose windows are shattered. Some time yesterday, perhaps, something had gone strange with the avoxes, but she's not sure what. She only hopes they're safe.

They have really one thing to look for, one thing to find. The one thing that is two things, at least two. Their family. Her Taria, His Azhira. Are the rest important? Meulin knows her aunt is somewhere out there too, probably. Probably alive, she hopes, with Taria. Taria who doesn't know she lives. Who doesn't even know what happend to her sister. Azhira who must know Kurloz was somewhere but had never seeked him out. Is Kurloz's father and mother there as well. She doesn't want to see, doesn't want to know. Taria and Azhira, somewhere, they were both somewhere, but where in this warzone of a city. Their rebel uniforms don't help, don't make them less of a target or their families easier to find. There's not much they can do.

The houses change to shops now and Meulin carefully picks her way closer to one. They're no closer to finding anyone with shops around instead of homes, but after her near miss yesterday, she was wary out in the open. Tucked here among the shop awnings and beautiful things, it feels a little more like it had before. The Capitol is still beautiful even with its poison beneath. Her hand goes up to the glass of the wide windows and she peers into the dark interior. Clothing, in the beautifully ridiculous fashions of the Capitol. Patriotic gold and white are still the favored colors it appears, though they are sprinkled with the candy coating and jewel shades she remembers.

"Wonder if they'd mind if I took something. I'd look good in those flowery things, right?" She tries for joking but her smile barely curls up the edges of her lips. They've had too many close calls. Even despite her failed attempt at humor, her hands move in automatic emphasis, 'right', one hand with pointed finger on top of the other.

[knifewithnoname]

One of the peacekeepers was very tiny. But that wasn't exactly unusual in a city where children had been sent to die for the amusement of the privileged few for three quarters of a century.

Gun in hand the figure walks like she knows what she's doing. She is trained after all. Part of her knows that in the rebel ranks there are people she once knew. People she allied with. But they had chosen their side. And it was not hers.

They were against the Capitol and it was to the Capitol that the girls loyalty lay. The side that was going to win. She patrolled the streets.

[From Day Two onwards]

The small peacekeeper dealt out blows to Avoxs, she was small but she could fight. Still trying to physically stop grown adults, tongueless or not, from mindlessly destroying buildings was proving difficult.

"Be leaving here. That do be being an order."

OTA: tribble army, days 1 to ??

[biiowiired]

The warehouse was supposed to appear abandoned. Its corrugated sides were more rust than metal. Hardly any light filtered through the grime-covered windows. Inside, cobwebs were the only decoration. A tall, lanky, gray-skinned alien was fiddling with the bolt of a shipping crate. Just beyond its open door were what looked like fuzzy animals the size of a child's toy ball in various shades of brown and white. They had no discernible features other than being round. They cooed and trilled obliviously.

Tribbles were completely harmless, except for eating any and all food in their path. They also reproduced to infestation levels in a matter of hours if given even the slightest bit of food. Psii was overjoyed to find out that some of his perfect low maintenance pets had not only survived the destruction of the Tribute Tower, but also repopulated their numbers. He was scheming to plant them in Capitol soldier food caches. Though he loved them disproportionately, their sacrifice would not be in vain. No siege could last without food, no matter how strong its defenses.

Maybe you were scheduled to meet with Psii and receive a food-ration-destroying tribble in the fight against the Capitol regime. Maybe you were tipped on suspicious activity at this location and need to put this rebel and his machinations down. Maybe you just like going places where you're not allowed. Whatever the case, you've stumbled in unexpected while this troll was too busy to notice. However, his vigilance was born of paranoia, and his pointed ear inevitably pricked up.

Psii slammed the door shut and turned, hissing.

[revvinguptheharley]

As if Harleen hadn't had enough trouble during this war, and here she was looking into suspicious information? Outside of the warehouse there were other guards but they had sent her in ahead knowing her acrobatic instincts were probably enough to keep her safe.

Well...that and frankly the peacekeepers didn't care about her.

When Psii whirled on her she let out a shriek, stumbling over a crate and smashing it open as she fell over backwards, rolling comically and scrambling to her feet again.

[talltaleteller]

Getting hired on by Stephen Reagan was not how Felicity had expected herself to get introduced into the wild and terrifying world of hands-on rebellion, but things just started to kind of come together once she'd signed her contract and gotten handed her little badge. One thing lead to another lead to another lead to a whisper here to an elbow there to talk of someone needed to smuggle some small things somewhere... and so that's what has brought her to Psii's little tribble dispensary.

She almost offers a careful hello, but he's right on the ball when it comes to not getting snuck up on. "Yee!" Up go her hands, empty and defensive, to stave off any possible attack. And maybe possible yelling, too. "I'm here for a tribble! That's all!" She's dressed like a Capitolite, sort of, kind of... those shoes are too practical and the colors are far more drab than stylish this season.

[porcelainandsteel]

Sansa wasn't looking for trouble. Quite the opposite - she was panicking, still totally unprepared for a real battle, and she ran for the warehouse because it looked like a safe haven. Dark. Abandoned. Quiet, too - no sound of gunfire, no screaming.

Was it a trap? She knew it could be, but fear overrode thought, and she ducked inside without considering it, clutching her gun to her chest and breathing heavily. Her lips moved silently, in a prayer for the Mother's mercy.

She was just starting to breathe again, her eyes adjusting to the dimness, when the door slammed and she realised she wasn't alone. With a little moue of fear, she flattened herself back against the wall, eyes wide, mind racing. Say something! Now, before he kills you! But her tongue's like lead in her mouth, and she can't say anything at all.

4th wall / closed to Signless

[fintastic]

Feferi had done everything she could to try and worm her way out of this, but she knew that the more she fought it, the worse it would be. She understands the Capitol's game, she always had, and she always knew she was playing at a handicap. They held all the power, and she held none, and all she could try to do was play their own cards against her. She'd managed for a little while, to at least live something of a life. But you could never call it normal. She wasn't fighting in the arenas anymore, but that did nothing to quell the fear for her life... or the fear for the life of others.

She hasn't seen Karkat in goodness knows how long.

She hasn't really seen much of anyone besides Dave since they petitioned out, and there's not a second that goes by where she doesn't wonder what else she could have done to make things work out for all of them. She's sat in a largely abandoned building, behind broken tinted glass, hidden away with a sniper rifle, where her horns can't give her away. She knows there's still a tracker in her arm, that running just isn't an option; but she knows that if she gets a clear shot, she has to take it, too. They'll know. They'll know, and then who knows what they'll do to the only person has left? That's not something she can let happen.

For all the training she'd been forced into, Feferi still had no idea what she was actually doing. Eridan had always been the sharpshooter... what would he say now, if he were here? For all they'd fought, and for as much as he wasn't her moirail anymore, she wished that stupid grumpy gills was there with her.

At least he knew how to shoot.

[69problems]

Slipping through back ways and darting through empty areas had always served Signless well in arenas and he sees no reason to stop now. In a war zone, sometimes the most can be accomplished by skirting around the edge until you're in exactly the right position to do some good. He's cutting through this building with the intent to get somewhere else entirely when he sees a pair of horns and stops short. For a second part of him, the part of him that was Kankri, that remembered what he lived, thinks Meenah -- but that's not Meenah and he knows it.

"Feferi?"

His voice is soft, his stance guarded. If she turns that gun on him he doesn't stand a chance, but somehow he doesn't think she will.

[noxius]

OTA - throughout endgame

[ It's exhilirating.

Fresh air - to an extent - but even then, being out and about in it is a glorious and wonderful thing. He's not stuck in a cramped, dusty box surrounded by plush toys. He's not confined to the rules of a clunky old music box. He's not bored out of his mind during the day, the same old song and dance over and over, gifts to the children day in and day out. There's no pizzeria here, no animatronics, no night shift.

Just a lot of bad, bad people.

That's what they told him when he woke up, at least. They had proof of it, too. Rebels, Big Nose Man called them (he was sure the man introduced himself by name but he didn't care, he had a big nose and it was funny.) They were bad people. They kidnapped children from their homes, told them stories that made them turn against their own families, hurt them, even kill them. It hits especially close to home, and he doesn't necessarily need to be told what to do next. Someone has to go out there and stop the bad people from taking away and hurting more children, after all.

While the whole training thing is generally boring - he knows what he's doing, sheesh - it's the awkward, at least two sizes too big body armor he's forced into before they sent him outside into battle. He only makes it a little further outside before the oversized suit gets tugged off and left in the dust behind him. He trusts his own hands and troubling appearance more than anything they could've given him.

A twisted and wicked grin is permanently spread across his pale face as he makes his way through the streets, moving quick and looking for anyone who might be one of those bad people he was told about. They can't be far. ]


[ ooc; Puppet arrives! He's been given a new body by the Capitol and is on the hunt for rebels. Flashlights won't do you any good here! He may be naive and easily mislead (he's still a child after all,) but just like FNAF2 he's incredibly violent and aggressive. He'll be wandering throughout the districts looking for rebels to attack, so feel free to approach him anytime throughout the event! ]

[voiceinthephone]

[Phil had the misfortune of not just being a rebel but being a former guard at Freddy Fazbear's himself. Hell, his distinctive voice echoed along the increasingly desolate streets, looking for survivors and anyone who needed first aid. He and his pets were making one last sweep before he saw a flash of...no...

The Puppet was one of the more disturbing additions to the Grand Reopening of Freddy's back in 1987. He never liked the thing, but he still took care of it as he did with the other toys. They were part of the Fazbear Family too of course. But Jeremy mentioned it and the fact that Sigma used the word Marionette to brainwash him, it was as if Panem was actively conspiring against former guards to break. If Fitzgerald's experience was any indication, this child was not to be trifled with.

This child was out for blood and in some aspects, Phone Guy knew he had every right to do so. He let the murders happen, he knows what's at stake in this war. There is no chance to reconcile without a fight, Sandy's programming made that perfectly clear. Phil just never thought he'd be fight a murderous child in a metaphorical arena. He wouldn't kill the boy, never, but he needed to be subdued.

For Jeremy's memory, for the sake of keeping one child from that hellhole alive, Phone Guy will do everything he can. He stays out of sight, signalling his foxes to head to higher ground.]

Open - zone 1-7

[atouchofka]

[Zone 1]

Alain has, if he's been honest, been waiting for this moment. He finally feels that he can do something here, help to bring the war to an end, to the right end. Once he's inside the Capitol's walls, though, there's a sudden sense of uncertainty. He's never had much experience fighting in cities, not since the fall of Gilead; he's certainly never fought in this kind of terrain without his Touch.

So he moves with care, not rushing, his gun drawn and his eyes roving around the streets. At one point, as he ducks into a side alley, one of the bushes catches at him, tendrils snaking out to catch at him.


[Zone 2]

The Avoxes make things more difficult. He appreciates that they're better on the Rebels' side than the Capitol's, appreciates the idea - but in practice, the city is now swarming with people who he feels duty-bound to try and protect (or at least avoid killing), and it makes getting a clear shot much more difficult.

In the end, around mid-afternoon, he finds a narrow back street, holsters his gun, and starts to climb. The bag he carries bounces against his back, and the climb is hard going, and he's very aware that he makes a perfect target. But if he can get onto the roof in one piece, he can take up a sniper's position, and let his skills take over.


[Zone 3]

The rooftops only last so long. The climbing is hard and time-consuming, and the buildings higher than he'd really planned for. Around midday of day three, he comes back to street level, pushing on into the city.


[Zone 4]

The trap takes him by surprise, the street peeling away underfoot. Alain doesn't think, doesn't let himself fall into that old trap of hesitance; he just moves. Gun in hand, he barrels his way through the nearest door, ready to fire on any enemy he might find inside.


[Zone 5]

He's tired and hungry, covered in blood and filth and ichor from the centipede he recently shot. That doesn't matter to him; he still has his gun, and he still has his bag, and the rest will just have to follow.

What does worry him is how empty his bandoliers are getting. He hates to set his own gun aside, not now - but he can't afford not to start looking for other weapons. Throughout the day, he can be found turning over bodies, trying to find a working gun with enough ammunition to see him through.


[Zone 6]

He's out of bullets. His gun joins Roland's, in the bag he still carries like it's the most precious thing in the world - which, so far as he's concerned, it is. Now he carries a Peacekeeper's gun instead. He's still getting to grips with the weapon - but a gunslinger with a gun is dangerous, no matter how strange that gun might be.


[Zone 7 (hmu up to take him out of commission)]

The end is close. He can feel that, and it gives him a new surge of strength. Will he be around to see it? Part of him is certain he won't, that this is the day he dies. He isn't sure why he feels that way, but he's never been one to question what his instincts are telling him.

He fights like a mad thing, battling his way through the streets and then, hoping for a better way down to the Capitol's heart, down into the sewers. Whatever happens, however this ends, he's going to see it through.

Open

[porcelainandsteel]

Sansa doesn't want to be here. She's never wanted to be anywhere less - honestly, even King's Landing is starting to look appealing. At least it wasn't on fire. At least all her friends there were already dead.

And at least, in all the hell she's been through there, she never had to kill someone. The thought makes her feel sick, and she hates the gun in her hand, and she hates the Capitol for putting it there, too. She knew this was coming, couldn't pretend otherwise, and yet she was pretending otherwise, right up until they cleared the city and put a weapon in her hands.

She's not fighting. That was never an option - she doesn't have the skill, and she doesn't have the stomach. Instead, she runs, just hoping to survive until all this is over. Keep your head down, keep yourself invisible. When the war's over, whoever wins, she doesn't want to be noticed by them. So she ducks and runs, looking for hiding places and shelter, offering up prayers to the gods. Mother, have mercy. Warrior, give me strength. Father, judge them justly.

The only good thing is that she managed to get Lady to stay with the citizens, to escape. Or so she thinks, until on the morning of the third day she wakes up to a wet nose against her face. She cries then, terrified that this second Lady will go the way of the first, but also grateful, because at least she's not alone. She has someone to protect, now.

For the rest of the week, she can be seen fleeing and hiding, red hair tied fast against her scalp to make it less obvious, distinguished from the other Capitol soldiers only by her small stature and the puppy running obediently to heel.

[carnagecarnival]

[1]

He's back in the Capitol. He knows these streets, know those towering sky-scrapers blinding in the day's light. He recalls a moment never lived, a hivecoming to wait upon the shores for one last strife, one last time seeing Da. This moment is pivotal, just like that was. This is that same cold kind of hivecoming where it ain't really home.

But there are so many differences between now and what could have been. They are so close, so fucking close to the end. He's brought his clubs but he's got no intent to use them on anything but beasts. He will use no club, nor claw, nor fang to end this war. By Messiahs two, he will end this war. He is a rebel now. And he is going to live.

The wind catches him right on the edge of the city, where it can still wind about unobstructed by the buildings ahead. His heart races in his chest, looking to run. He's been a monster, a broken thing, a soldier, a voiceless tool. He has been so many things and all of them afraid. But he doesn't run from it now. He takes it. He grasps at it from within and twists and pulls, dragging it like some great beast to the surface. He is a Makara and so he is all of these things. But is also a believer in miracles, a part of a family, and something even more than.

This world? This isn't the Capitol's world. This is their fucking world. And he is a god damn guardian.

His eyes light like flames. All the fear builds up and rises high, growing and growing until he can feel it all, everyone. Mother. Fucking. Everything. And his mute ass self commands with a roar heard in the minds of all those still within the city near enough in his reach, so everyone hears his voice. And he grasps them each individual. And he tells them... to run.

[2]

Terezi has gone down already. And he's not with her. Each step is a new surge of panic. He fears for her. He fears for others. He fears can't do this and he fears for himself. "Believe," She said. "Find something good--find yourself a miracle, and hold onto it." He remembers too what Sam had said, about keeping shades of all his dear ones safe. He remembers how it came back around, how Terezi had said, "Keep him safe. The Kurloz that I pity..." And he remembered all those little pieces. He holds them all, all his ghosts, family and self alike, close to heart. They keep him walking.

The fear surrounds him in miasma. Were this all but a dream, they could all see it, spinning slow around him the way he feels it to be. For a day it has gone steady and for a day he has run. He has single-handedly inspired evacuation in near half the city. There's still more to go, but he's not sure how much more fear he can run on.

And then Cecil's voice fills all of the Capitol. He recognizes immediately. It stuns him. A rebel speaking. An Avox speaking. Cecil, returned to them all, with the Punch along with. He freezes and looks up. He would've done so even if it hadn't been addressed as near as all could be to him. It doesn't matter how much he heals our changes, the shades of himself carry with him. He will have always been an Avox.

A call for order sounds, and his brow furrows. The words ring through to his core all the same and he waits. He ain't expecting what he hears. There's a twitch in his face, disbelief and something more. He feels like laughing. He feels like crying. He spreads his arms out wide. Cecil speaks straight through fear, as all Avoxes know and he knows best, but what he speaks to is something else. Something new to Avoxes. Something old to him, but never been reached so intrinsic.

"Survive; and destroy," Cecil says. And so he reaches just the same has Cecil has reached out. Deep, deep, deeper than he has ever gone before and though his eyes light with voodoo, it is not fear he rips free this time. With a laugh both surprised and victorious, and a spark of psionics that can actually be seen, he opens a whole new manner of communion.

He feels Rage.

He reaches far, the whole of the Capitol this time, as many as he can reach immediate. He laces Cecil's word with impulse and drive, allowing it to be heard in such ways as that even those with voice, will seek to use it. It is a feral thing, he feels it in his motherfucking throat, he can all but taste the white hot anger that spills all over, and yet he is giddy for it. He did it. He's done it. He's a Prince of Rage.

The power snarls, into whomever it can reach, Look what they did, look what they've done to you, all of you, you were promised better than this, you mother fucking deserve better than this! Do not take this laying down, do not remain silent, don't you dare fucking give up! Get angry! And he sees shades of himself. He sees who he could have been. He sees the Signless. He sees the Disciple and Mituna and the Dolorosa with him. He sees the Neophyte, the Summoner, all those who fought. He sees Albert and he sees Jet especially. He sees Sam.

And he thinks of what was done to them all. To Terezi too. To his other self, who only wanted better, both of them only wanted better and still got cursed for it. To Gamzee, who never deserved this at all. His Da who should've been better than he fucking was. And he thinks of his losses, the people-- of Alternia, Beforus, or here-- and the good futures he never got to have, timeline after timeline. His voice, his heart, all that was robbed of him.

For a moment, he can almost feel his wings. They shape themselves illusory of nothing but spark and light, a blink of the eye and they're gone. But he feels them.

He feels all his ghosts and all the Avoxes coming to life and more.

Survive.

Destroy.

Run.

He is going to live and he will not allow such cruelty to crush him or any of his people down ever the fuck again. As Cecil ends his speech, he releases the power and lets the Rage take hold.