The Northwest Quarter | Mandate One

[d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel]

ASTON MAYBACH

Aston keeps trying to push the girl away, but something is drawing her to him or him to her. A distracting concern for another when all his brain should be on himself. This is not a team game; it could end with just Imogen versus Aston and then what?

He cares enough to think more than once about the leg she says is injured. But an injured competitor is an easily beaten one.

He plays dirty by not mentioning it. But he can’t get away from her in here, they are both trapped. Pushed together as the water rises up up up. Then goes that concerned mouth of his.

”Do you know how to float in water? I was taught not to panic.” Aston shouts at Imogen, as he lays back against the surface of the water. There is not much water where Aston lives, other than the murky pond near his house where him and his friends used to collect frog spawn from. His dad always recounts a tale before summer about a lost friend who strayed too far into a large pond. He made sure all his kids learnt to swim. At least now Aston can test that skill.

Giving advice to the competitors? Zak would have his tongue. This is the opposite of playing dirty. ”Or you could just try and sit on top of one of the cages, maybe the water won’t rise that far. There’s not a lot you can do with a broken leg…I will leave you here.” None of that sounds right. ”Just remember what Cordelia told us, you still got your knives?”

Just leave her Aston! That is all he can hear Zak say, the concern should be on the water. Soon it will be time to put his dad’s life skills to the test.

But the environment throws more things at him to survive, a flurry of glass fills Aston’s face and body. Tiny pieces of shrapnel bury into his skin, stinging his bare torso that floats on the water. Instinct is open his eyes and he does, the miniscule shards of glass from the shattered barrier fill his eyes. ”Ahh damn!” A fist rubs his eyes while the other one still clenches onto the sword. Does he even need that weapon? Will a blade get him through the next booby trap?

The water levels rise above the animal’s cages, Aston’s advice to Imogen seems redundant now. He needs to get away from her. Aston is floating on his back, one eye completely irritated by the glass so everything around him is barely viewable except the beaming sun and raining food cartons up above.

Don’t hold back. He has pushed through stitches in his stomach before and groaning muscles that beg him to stop running but his brain knows his body more than anything else. He needs to get out of this cellar. Aston holds his breath and-

ELEGANT

Aston Maybach attempts to survive | his life x2.

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1-100

[thompson harvard - d2b - arc]

The water continues to rise, leaving little to no room to avoid facing its rushing embrace. I’ve seen ducks swim before, or at least float, and gosh I wish I could be a duck. Just flap my wings and use my little webbed feet to stay afloat, it’d make it all so easy. It’d feel natural. I wouldn’t be scared, which would be nice. I feel my heart in my chest and my words are all scrambled up in my head thinking that this is the end and I should stop swimming. That I should just give up, because what the heck is a boy from five doing swimming.

I gasp for air, trying to mimic what our old dog used to do in the water. Sometimes, when the farm is closed, my mom, dad, and sister would keep everyone out and just swim around together. I always thought the water was filled with duck pee, so swimming in it was gross. Boy, I sure wish I did now. My sister would always tease me about it. She’d call me a baby. She wasn’t wrong, but maybe I should’ve dipped in.

Pieces of cups and food start to swarm around the water, almost to taunt us through our attempts to stay afloat. The corners of my eyes catch stripes of scales through the water, as well, trying to convince me that maybe the popcorn isn’t the only snack today. Parts of debris get whipped around with the pool of water, following the current just like the other newfound pollutants in the water. My leg gets swiped by something sharp - a rock, a piece of wood, marble. Whatever it is creates a sharp pain in my leg, making it even harder to want to keep swimming. I just keep pushing against the tide with my arms and hope it's enough. Maybe it’ll end soon, I wish to myself, sputtering and choking on water.

The water in my lungs weighs me down, making it hard to find much purpose in the chaos.

From the sides of the arena, the Capitol watches, jeering at us through the opening because we're too busy trying to swim more than float. They're all talking, though, excited to see something new in the Games. I hear someone else talking, one of the two that ended up from the same District. How can he focus enough to get some words out, let alone that much? I'm only using my mouth to breathe - a poor choice, but the only one I know, and that's even hard.

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1-100

[lucius branwen / 10 — fox]

Z H I W E I

► ► ►

She could drown here, lying in the water, as she had so many nights before in the bath, holding her breath in a tepid kind of curiosity. It doesn't make sense – someone would say this about her death in porcelain. But this, at least, is easy to understand. She is supposed to die.

She marries the dead to stay alive, and he comes after her a day later.

It's almost insane, it's morbidly comical. Sometimes it feels like she's watching herself, like she's watching the story unfold and she already knew what the ending would be from the very start. All through her life, there was the growing sense that this life was not her own, and now here is the final act of it.

She swims to the surface, and sound returns in a savage roar. Blood billows from a long cut across her forearm like the fins of a butterfly koi. In her hand, she's still clutching the dagger, and she skewers it into the wall, gripping against the current.

There's Alexandre. The pair from One. District Five. She watches the boy from Seven slip under the surface, and he never reappears.

The debris churns by, bits and pieces of the colosseum, litter from the stands, huge chunks of wall barrelling down towards her with each wave of rising water. Her arms are growing tired.

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1-100

[Izzabel Bennet D8A (Jorg)]

A L E X A N D R E

Alexandre has managed to survive the initial fall without major scrapes, and seems to be holding well on his own. He struggles to get his bearings though, trying to focus on staying afloat and above the water. He wishes that he was never brought here. He wishes he was playing in the fields back home. He wishes that he didn't have to fight to survive. His clothes are only weighing him down, but he still fights on. Doing his best to swim for as long as he can.

If he was taller, the water height wouldn't be an issue, however, he hasn't hit his growth spurt yet, so he's already having to tread water, and he starts to worry about how long he can keep this up. He lost track of the other tributes, which only increases his panic even more, Alexandre's breathes start to come in short, shallow gasps as he continues to tread, trying to get in as much air in his lungs as possible. He looks for anything study to hold onto. In his frantic head turning, he sees the pair from One, Zhiwei, and the boy from Five all in various states.

Zhiwei has a weapon dug into the wall, holding herself above the water line, the boy from Five is struggling like Alexandre is, and the pair from One seem to be almost supporting each other. Alexandre thinks that he sees a floating piece of debris strong enough to hold him afloat, so he swims over there, his muscles already starting to ache.

ELEGANT

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1-100

[gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕]

imogen van doren.

The water raged onward.

There was no break, barely a moment to breathe, and each time she dared more and more water filled her lungs. The end was coming. It was inevitable, but for some reason -

She kept forcing herself to fight it.

”Do you know how to float in water? I was taught not to panic.”

"I won't lie Aston, it's a little difficult not to panic in this situation," even when her words should have been filled with venom, they were somehow still calm and diplomatic. All those years of pageants taught Imogen how to be calm under pressure.

Even when your world was crashing down around you.

She forces her body to relax, letting the water rise her to the top. Her head breaks free for just a moment, before another wave comes crashing down, forcing her back under. Water begins to suffocate her from the inside-out, and as she kicks up, excruciating pain shoots through her leg. Finally, she breaks surface and hears Aston's voice.

"Or you could just try and sit on top of one of the cages, maybe the water won’t rise that far."

"Yes, smart, smart," she says between gasps of air. Panicking, she looks around for the nearest cage and swims over to it. Imogen slowly begins to climb the outer edge, ignoring each burst of pain with every move she dares to take. Hair soaked, lungs screaming, she sits atop a cage with a creature of who knows what beneath her, trying to get her bearings straight.

"”Just remember what Cordelia told us, you still got your knives?”

The sound of glass shattering makes her jump. An announcement booms over the sound system, but she could barely hear over the panicked screams of both the audience and the tributes. People were dying and they were worried about audience interference.

Pathetic.

"I still have them," her hand went to the utility belt of her jumpsuit where she had managed to stash five small knives. "Not sure how much good they're going to do in this case,"

Imogen could fight.

But for how long could she survive?


j0xhMAWoSI1-100

1-100

[gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin.]

Flashes of freedom, swept away by turbulent and unpredictable waves. Some tributes find themselves lost in the water beneath the stadium, trapped in water surges and pinned under rubble in what used to be a maintenance closet. Others of them are left to terrifying, lonely deaths while the more fortunate watch fellow tributes try to save them, reaching out hands to save them from a sealed fate. A stray few find comfort when pieces of white armor begin to join the collection of floating debris. A thigh holster empty of its guns, a helmet with a large hole cracked out of the back, a single white boot. Most of the audience tries not to notice whether or not the foot is still inside. 

Audience members watch Jovis' Peacekeeper force collects in a circle around the place, a barrier of white uniforms standing at the ready in case anyone else has a mind to misbehave. They stare down at the water and ask themselves which of their own friends they have lost to this moment while the crowd in the stands steadies somewhat. It seems the burst of upward momentum is ready to slow as the leaders in black refuse to leave their own posts. He stands, spine chillingly straight, while she curls in on herself further, arms wrapping around her narrow shoulders as if to hide from the sky. She's got one of her hands at her lips now, already ripped nails being bit down to nubs. Neither of them walks away though; neither of them gives up.  

The Games, it seems, must go on.

Floating in the water still though are the telltale signs of the audience's overzealousness: the emptied cartons of popcorn bobbing unsteadily, cans of pop long drained, even a fascinator dressed up with a blue feather floats near the wall. It makes for a strange, collected as they are amongst floating animal corpses and shattered television screens. 

A whisper from the brunette woman in her partners ear: "they're going to have our heads if one of them doesn't make it out of this alive."

---

Retro Engine Link: Here

As stated: all tributes will take damage over time, regardless of whether they pass the survival check or not, to be sure that there will eventually be a victor. The roll below will represent how much damage each tribute in this mandate takes. This damage can be interpreted by the tributes as they see fit! The new survival threshold is 40.

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4-8

[d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel]

ASTON MAYBACH

Aston checks just one more time, Imogen is in temporary safety. Alive for now. One last look at that girl then he is under the water.

One eye is completely blurred, scratched and irritated by the glass while the other guides him through the depths of the rising water. There is heavy debris under here, a whole lot of it that he pushes away with his free hand and his sword. And there is worst possible sight too, bodies. Already the tributes are falling. He wonders if this was all meant to happen, if it was a part of a plan. A little twist to keep the pompous popcorn packet eaters up there entertained.

He pushes through the water, legs kicking soft enough so that they do not cause a splash up above. His airways are starting to squeeze and his lungs yell for air. Aston answers their cries for help and emerges above the water, one gasp…his eye cries louder though. More fine specks of debris and glass have buried further into his socket. He fights everything to not just scratch his eyeball out with his fingernails. It is a horrid sensation that taunts him, no amount of rubbing his face will stop.

Back under the water he goes just for some sweet relief, but it does not last long. The gates of the cages, they are open and empty…

Aston’s re-emergence from the water is more dramatic than the last one, the gears in his heart have really kicked in now. A triggered threat that could be lurking anywhere, he fears it more than a loose beam that could drop any moment and take him out.

He needs to warn her.

The girl he was told to kill.

Aston kicks through the water, back to where he left Imogen, and she is still there. ”You need to get out of here!” That panic he advised against, it is right there in his words and painted on his face. ”If you think you can swim, follow me. You might have to use those knives now.” Where has the logic gone? Asking the same competitor to join him who he has tried so hard in the past long minutes to push away. The logic is, he needs to use her to fight the animals. That’s it. That is what he will tell them. Then he can leave her again. Try too.

”I will be honest,” he says, for once his words break as he gasps for air. ”I have been trying to leave you behind but I really think we should try and help each other at least get somewhere dry. Aston takes hold of her wrist, not waiting to see if she wants to follow. They both have no choice.

Another wave crashes over Aston’s head and it forces him under. The last thing he sees is Imogen. Then he feels something grab his ankle…

ELEGANT

Does Aston get to see Imogen again?

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1-100

[gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕]

imogen van doren.

Death crept upwards.

Every time she dared to blink, the water rose around her by at least a foot. Others were slowly drowning, or quickly, depending on how you looked at things. She was sure the other tributes in the various corners of the coliseum were suffering as well. Because it couldn't just be them, right? Imogen forced the panic rising in her throat back down.

She had to survive.

Even if she had no idea how.

Her voice breaks as she watches Aston disappear under the water. Did he decide to give up? Did something drag him under? She dared to call out.

But the words became lost at her lips.

The water continued to grow, slowly taking over the cage she sat atop. It wouldn't be much longer until she was forced back in, or she let Death take her. One option was much easier than the other. Her eyes flashed around in panic, searching for someone, something that would help aid her escape. She was about to give up, but she finally felt herself breathe as Aston resurfaced in the water.

”You need to get out of here!”

"That is just a fantastic idea!" She said with her award winning smile. He meant the best, it was clear, but he was clearly not trained in the question and answer sections like she was.

”If you think you can swim, follow me. You might have to use those knives now.”

"I think I can, but honestly, it's not like I have much of a choice." His had wraps itself around her wrist, and she forces out a smile.

What an untimely friendship, destined to come to an untimely end.

”I have been trying to leave you behind but I really think we should try and help each other at least get somewhere dry."

"I agree. We'll stay together for as long as we can, until we finally have no choice. Sound good?"

And without another word, she grabbed his hand, jumped into the water, and ignored her body as it screamed at her to stop. Death was moving closer.

But Imogen wasn't prepared to say hello to him quite yet.



O_jU0Pv1a71-100

1-100

[thompson harvard - d2b - arc]

I think that pair from one is ridiculous.

The boy keeps yelling out to his district partner as I continue to thrash my arms and kick my legs, hoping they’re enough to keep me afloat through the quickly tiring charade. Saying all this stuff about that she needs to get out of there, telling her to follow him. To where? The entire darn place is filled with water. I don’t think they’re getting anywhere with that. Maybe their previous winner didn’t do much.

A shard from a broken wine glass scrapes itself in my leg. The other half of the bottle hardly missed my head. I feel a searing pain, long and stinging and ringing. It vibrates through my mind, and it makes wanting to survive so much more difficult - I can’t do this, I think to myself with the eyes of an unimpressed capitolite meeting mine as I splash around. The scrunched up nose, raised eyebrow, she was certainly not impressed by my poor attempts of swimming.

”...help each other at least get somewhere dry,” the boy from one comments once again, and he truly has to be one of the most insane voices here.

”I don’t-” opening my mouth was not a good idea, but I just couldn’t listen to another stupid suggestion. Water fills my mouth and enters my lungs, making me choke, and I continue trying to talk through splashes of water. ”I don’t think you’re getting anywhere dry soon!” my voice weak, but it’s wanting to face reality than some silly suggestion from him. The waves rise and continue to spin me around like a tornado.

”I agree. We'll stay together for as long as we can, until we finally have no choice. Sound good?” The girl responds back to him, probably trying to make him feel slightly better, and she quickly slips out of his hand, the water pulling her straight down, out of the picture. That’s enough inspiration to keep me swimming, knowing that she’s down there. She’s probably gone. Never surfacing again, but she has a few more minutes of this aquatic peril.

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1-100

[lucius branwen / 10 — fox]

Z H I W E I

► ► ►

The water is still startlingly cold, so much so that she can't think about much else. It feels like her head is wearing a coat, red and downy-soft. The strange, unsettling calmness stays with her, like dream walking in the dark.

When the water rises, it's impersonal, indiscriminate, and brutal as it comes. Above the white noise of decay, the boy from One calls for his district partner, his voice echoing and floating over them. He wants to help her. He wants them to stay together until the end.

A few feet away, Alexandre splashes towards a piece of rubble, struggling against the current. She could reach for him, lock hands, and swim together.

But then what? So someone could kill him later? Would another minute of life mean anything?

She watches little Alexandre sink below the surface, and the conversation between the tributes of One fades in and out. When she has the energy to shift herself to turn to their direction, she can only see the figure of the boy, swaying with the rush of water.

Better this way.

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1-100

[mat]

Water froths above the wreckage. Most places in the underbelly of the arena must either be completely filled or blocked off entirely if the water has made its way to the surface. The smaller television screens flicker as their sources are either covered in dripping water or submerged completely. Tributes are drowned, bitten by rats and snakes, and bruised for falling debris. A man with a heavy red beard is escorted from the crowd with a pack of dogs to the tunnels of the arena, likely to hunt down and recover bodies.

The crowd scoffs with disgust as one of the video cameras clearly catches one of the tributes biting back at the snakes. The stadium screens atop the stands, still focused on the two leaders in black, catch the woman nervously holding her breath while the man's stoic expression flickers. He pushes down on his side, responding to a message from the Peacekeepers in his earpiece. "What?' He bites down on his lower lip. "Okay. Bring them out."

He leans into his partner's side again, breaking the news. "There were two Peacekeepers keeping watch in the basement when the collapse happened. They're both dead." At this point, the entire Games might need a cover-up. He returns back to his space, arms folded, silently listening to the updates in his ear.

---

Retro Engine Link: Here

We've officially reached the second phase of the Games with less than half of the tributes left. All tributes will now post in a fifth "finale thread" which will continue until only one tribute is remaining. We will have one final roll in this mandate for natural damages.

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[gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin.]

As noted in the 9th Games Mechanic, tributes utilizing the ineligible to win system meet their end once we hit phase two. Moving forward they are considered deceased, but you may continue writing their stories here.