The Southeast Quarter | Mandate Three

[mat]

The plexiglass barrier that once protected the crowd from the tributes, as well as the tributes from the crowd, has shattered into millions of shards. Railings at the front row bend inward toward the arena, hands of the Capitol's richest swiping forward to catch their clunky cameras and popcorn. Thankfully, most of the crowd stands remain intact.

The dust settles from the collapse, and the crowd gasps as they see a casualty. Clear in the center of the stage is District Ten's female tribute, Sarina. She did not make it through the collapse. She lays, or stands, rather, held in place mid-air by two pergolas. Crushed. Motionless.

The audio from this section largely comes in the gasps for air and crashes of pergola. One section of the crowd frowns as their area's television screen floats in the next section's view, crashing up against one of the girls. One member of the crowd faints from devastation as she watches a boy get consumed by the flood. The crowd in this area begins to chant, "Fuck them up! Fuck them up!"

Jovis pinches his lip, trying to hold back a smirk. OH NO! some thought. Him? Oh no!!! A tragic accident, but to him, a deserved one.

Capitol citizens stay close to the exposed collapse, members of the crowd from the above sections moving down to inspect the damage. There are members of the crowd who toss their collectible posters, frustrated by the catastrophe. Some of the pages slip through cracks of rubble, and the tributes see their posters, some with their eyes poked out and others with incendiary commentary attached. After seeing the chaos, the commanding voice that announced the start of the Games demands them to stop. Have they learned nothing from when Capitolites mobbed the train station to accost the tributes? "Members of the crowd are reminded that interference in the Hunger Games is strictly prohibited. Those who violate this rule will be detained." The man, perhaps many will assume to be Jovis after calls during the collapse, sends Peacekeepers and guards to various deviant crowd members.

The two leaders, dressed in black, confer. He whispers to her, "They won't live forever down there. Give them some time, and then we'll send guards to recover the bodies. Maybe there'll be a survivor." The inflection in his voice gives anyone within earshot that he hopes there aren't any to be found.

Within the collapse, pieces of the rubble break down further. No part of the arena's underbelly is stable. Capitol dogs growl in wait. Rats bite at the food fallen from the crowd. Snakes travel with the water's flow. The new terrain of the arena is only getting smaller, and the water rises, preparing a new Atlantis for the tributes.

---

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 30.

RRU_LAmg1Q4-84-8

[pearl mcclain d4 [ryan]]

she is treading enough water. at least, that is what she heard the term was from her mother. two did not have many lakes, but the ones that were found in the wilderness were always packed to the brim. the nights when she would break the rules and sneak out just late enough to be able to get the feeling of the water on her skin was going to pay off in dividends.

it swallows her body, but she can still see the rubble falling from all over the arena. she is too worried about the heaviness of the clothes on her own body to realize that a dismounted tv was being pushed her way by the current. she looked up and bam, tiny little shards had found their way into her face. she screams out in pain for a moment before dipping her head under the water might help just a little. she feels around her face gently and begins to pull out the noticeable pieces of glass from each cut. she lets them fall in the water, realizing that she needs to come up for air.

when she does, she sees her district partners body floating in the water, and then the girl from five not too much further from it. she does not want to assume anything, but in the calamity of it all, it did seem like she took her opportunity to kill. the huge piece of wood though meters away did also leave mac questioning. it was best for her to focus on her own survival. the boy from twelve and the tribute from six have also survived.

"this is not what i expected the hunger games to be like." mac is just trying to stay afloat. she thought there would be more blood, less water. turns out she was way off the course. each time she opened her mouth, it hurt, the cuts still fresh as she tried to keep her head up enough to see through the rubble. she notices the streams of water still pouring in. "its still coming down. why arent they doing anything?" mac is and will always be the one to stand up for other people. when people tested her boys, she was the one that would open her mouth first.

she did not know anyone here like that, not even augustus, but if they were going to let them sink like rats, then she figured she might as well treat the survivors with the same amount of tenacity and fervor.

the water rises, and all she can think about is staying alive.

[cannot win roll - hope things get dicey!]
CNjww4czRm1-20
[+6]

1-20

[Noah Vau - D2 (Cato)]

Maegor Syndulla

There's so much water, and it doesn't seem like it's going to go away any time soon. All I can do is try to hold on, try to keep my head above water. I look around, and I keep my grip on the ledge even as the crowd comes closer. Maybe they can save me, maybe they can get me out of this, but it would be foolish to ask, foolish to even try because I know they can't. Besides, I don't need their help. I don't need them trying to save me when I'm perfectly capable of saving myself. I can already feel the fatigue setting in, though, and I know I need to hold on just a bit longer. I focus on my hands and my grip, and for a moment, I let my legs rest from all the kicking they've done to try to keep my head from going under.

It's hard to hold onto the ledge. It's hard to keep myself up, but in this moment, I need to keep relaxing and not panic. Even as I see bodies floating next to me, I need to focus on myself. Right now, it's about catching my breath to figure out what's going to happen next. It's about keeping my strength in my legs from giving out so I can keep kicking despite feeling as though I'm going to crash and burn. I've always figured out ways to get out of things, but I don't think there's anyway out of this one other than floating longer than anyone else, but who knows if that's even possible. I take a deep breath and try to remain as relaxed as I can, and I'm thankful I don't feel that heavy as I try to hold on. For now, I've found some peace, something to keep myself focused.

Back home, I would have to stop my mind from racing so many times a day just to prove that I'm great and strong and capable of keeping myself alive while showing I'm capable of winning anything. I don't want to lose this because I feel drowning is a painful way to go, but even then, it might not be that bad at all. I let go of the ledge for a moment to see how easy it is to float, and I feel that I quickly sink under the water and frantically kick myself back to the top. That was a mistake, and I hope I don't make it again. I don't know how long I will be here, but I need to save my energy as much as I can. Winning isn't easy, and that's why I enjoy climbing my way to the top in everything I do. It's the only way to succeed.

District Twelve

[googlefont="Oswald:400"]

NhKDPZ1_sL1-100
1-100

[Cait]

arlette foy

It lands on him instead.

You know without knowing, without seeing, without truly knowing how you know. The beam was solid. It was falling too fast on a path you were incapable of stopping. And yet, you know.

A crushing warmth saves you as the world is plunged into shadow, the only trace of sight coming to you as streaky pinpricks of last light. Your breaths become shallower and shallower under the extra weight of a body you instinctively try to wrap yourself around. Sinking into the ground, you wait for the inevitable moment that your lungs won’t be able to sustain your life any longer, praying your death is a quick one.

But the moment doesn’t come, because it lands on him instead. You hear the sound of cracking bone confirming as much – shudder at the image it conjures against the blackness of the boy’s chest.

It lands on him instead.

He saved your stupid, sorry, middle-schooler butt.

You’re still here, you’re still whole.

But you can’t breathe.

You can’t escape.

You’re trapped.

Help.

The ground splinters underneath you.

Help!

You begin to fall, become lost in the rubble.

HELP!

Somehow, somewhere, someone hears your screaming prayers. Flips you mid-air as you fall, releasing the pressure on your chest long enough for you to suck in grateful gulps of air before the floor comes to meet you once more.

There’s a moment where everything goes still. The world stops spinning, the two of you aren’t falling anymore. You close your eyes and allow the serenity to flow through you, scared for the reprieve to end. Scared this is all you’ll get to have, now and forever.

You’re right, of course. The moment doesn’t last. Reality comes hurtling back towards you with a new ferocity, in the form of a barrage of sewage water. You look around frantically, trying to find the source of the spill, but the Arena is flooding too fast. Other Tributes swim wildly against the current as the screams of spectators spur them on and it’s all a fucking mess of a nightmare you don’t know how to wake up from.

Wake up, wake up, but the body underneath you doesn’t move. You realise too late that the warmth of his skin is quickly fading.

The water rises,

“C’mon, we have to go!” You’re coughing, spluttering, choking on the brine, wishing you were being suffocated by the boy’s heavy body again instead, for surely it would sting less. “We have to swim, or something–”

He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t say anything at all. Couldn’t, even if he was going to. Doesn’t, even as you shake his shoulder desperately and scream in his ears and watch the glow of his aura dull, fade, die.

Your heart hammers wildly. It hurts more than any broken bone ever has.

He saved you.

You don’t know what to do with the fact, this foreign territory; you’ve become so used to saving yourself. It’s what you’ve done all your life.

So why does it feel so hard to do now?

The metal beam catches a particularly strong wave and you watch it get carried away easily – like it weighs little more than a feather. One horror ending, only for another to begin – you’re forced to abandon the broken body of the older boy to attempt to find your own safety.

You don’t let yourself look back.

Exhaustion seeps into your bones – you simply can’t keep up.

Water on your face, and you can’t tell if it’s your own tears or the aftermath of the brackish flood. Pathetic, you told yourself you wouldn’t cry. You hate that you can’t even keep this simple, stupid promise to yourself.

You grip the knife in your hand tighter as you wade forwards, kick harder, are swept towards the voice of the other older girl dressed in blue. “How do we stop it?!” – did you really think you would be prepared for this?

Girl of fire, playing make-believe: you were always destined to drown.

RWej4xROB81-100

1-100

[kap]

Nekhbet is nearly certain she hears the Sun God's voice in her head as she tries to swim, telling her she'll make it through this- telling her not to give up. She wants to believe this is actually the Sun God speaking to her, and that it's not just all in her head. But how can she possibly prove that other than just having simple faith?

She supposed she'd just have to trust it.

She wasn't going to give up. She kept treading the water, swimming hard but not so hard that she wouldn't have any strength left. Nekhbet was smart- smart enough to know when to conserve her energy and when to use it. For that matter, how much of it to use, too.

Nekhbet just had to keep using logic and her mental strength here.

Swim, damn it, swim!

She told herself in her head, over and over again, that she could do this.

Using all of her mental strength, surely she could survive to make it home to Wadjet. Then, she would just have to hope that she never went through something like this, too.

-

[words: xxx]

87zK7ZLpDy1-100

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.

mPdgb_CX3Q4-8

4-8

[pearl mcclain d4 [ryan]]

another body winds up floating in her vicinity, and mac feels nothing but dread as she realizes that she is barely hanging on herself. she is trying to keep herself focused on staying alive, just long enough to maybe watch the game makers draw out all of the water in the arena.

she is wading the water as it continued to fill the arena, she was surprised that she has been able to keep her head above. she looked back for a second, realizing that girl from five had been saying something behind her. before mac could say anything, she felt something sting her in the water. when she pulled up her arm, she realized that she had a large but shallow laceration along her arm. she winced in pain, figuring that it was probably getting infected with every moment that they spent in the water.

she had a feeling that she was going to die here. she moved in the water, giving what she could to keep herself moving. she was starting to become tired, but the thought of going home was keeping her motivated. she needed to survive, if she wanted to see her friends again. she just wanted this to be over.

when she was close enough to the only other girl, she reached out her hand. "i dont think there is a way to stop this..." mac said sternly over the falling debris. she isnt sure what is drawing her to the other girl, but at this point, they might not have enough time to argue about anything. it was better to just worry about surviving now, and then fight later. "... grab on, we might be able to stabilize each other." mac knows that she is a solid girl, and so she figured she float just long enough for this to pass.

trust was out the window and in the water at this point..

[cannot win roll - hope things get dicey!]
KzsfnjuYgu1-20
[+6]

1-20

[Cait]

arlette foy

Something pulls you towards the girl from Two. You pretend not to know what it is, because admitting the truth would mean reliving the past five minutes and you–

you just can’t do it–

but the navy blue of her uniform is comforting. You feel warm when you look at her. The fabric inspires some feeling of safety, as momentary and fleeting as it may be. You desperately want to cling to it, but it’s too much to assume she can save you – certainly, she doesn’t look ready to take on that role, and could you blame her? In a fight to the death, you can only trust yourself. Even so, you find her in the flood, just to save from being alone.

You thought you wanted to be alone.

Your world keeps turning upside down. You hate it here, but you hate it back home. You hate the precious seconds of survival that your confused thoughts rob you of.

Shattering glass rains down on you both. You manage to dodge the biggest shards, silently thanking your lithe frame, but the other girl isn’t quite so lucky. You watch her skin slice open, watch the blood drip from her cheek and dirty the water around you. Still, it’s just a mere drop in the relentless flood.

The tide flows, too strong.

You’re all going to drown if you don’t escape.

“I don’t think there is a way to stop this...” No, the rapidly rising tide and the lack of external interference confirmed as much. They were being drowned alive. Had that been the plan all along? Had the weapons simply been a mirage that you had stupidly fallen for?

If killing each other was off the table, was there a way they could all make it out of this alive?

Did you even want to save anyone else?

Or would there simply be no survivors at all?

You look down at the knife in your hand – so futile, so pointless, and yet you can’t bring yourself to drop it, even if holding onto it might slow you down. The glint of the metal gives you some false sense of security, and so you clutch it even tighter as you attempt to swim towards the spectator stands, looking for something solid to hold on to.

The roars are louder here – bystanders and tributes merging into one in a cruel twist of fate. You try not to imagine the horrors unfolding mere metres away from you. You’ve seen the Games before. You know what these people are capable of.

Two’s voice comes at you from the watery grave, muffled and shaking and desperate. “Grab on, we might be able to stabilise each other.”

There are choices you make in your life that have the potential to alter the entire course of your journey. Fight or flight, head versus heart, spur of the moment decisions – that’s all life is, in the simplest of terms. The hardest part is knowing which path is the right one to take.

The girl’s hand appears like a lifeline, but you see the tendrils of barbed wire encompassing her wrist. The trap is disguised well, but you are a girl of suffering. You’ve fallen for kind gestures and pretty words too many times before, only to be pushed down and pummelled into the gravelly ground.

You remember where you are. You remember only one person is supposed to make it out alive.

You make your choice.

l2tDewmvZV1-100

You put your faith in her words and grip her hand tightly, your voice a whispery whimper: “Don't let go.”

1-100

[Noah Vau - D2 (Cato)]

Maegor Syndulla

I don't know what to do. The roaring of the water is loud, it's echoing through my ears, and I feel as though something worse is going to come. But what's worse than this? Drowning is terrifying, it's scary, and it's the only thing keeping me alive at the moment. All of this was something created to throw us completely off guard, and in this moment, the only thing I can do is focus on slowing my breaths before I hyperventilate and sink to the bottom of this hell. I feel so hopeless, like everything is out of my reach, and I don't know what to do about it. There isn't anything I can do, and it's one of the worst feelings ever. I was fully prepared to fight with a weapon, and now I find myself saturated, and it's so cold that I'm trying to prevent myself from shivering.

I keep holding onto the ledge hoping it's enough to prevent me from going under since I have no clue how to float let alone swim, but I know my strength, and I know my body will do whatever it can to keep myself alive. Even this feels like it's too good to be true though. I've always had trouble accepting defeat. I've always had trouble understanding that I'm going to lose sometimes, and this, this is worse than that. I never imagined I would die in a shit show like this. I don't even know what's floating around anymore, but trying to avoid them is hard especially when I'm afraid of letting go of this ledge I've managed to hold on to. It won't last too long though because the water is rising, and I'm so afraid. It's then I have to find something else to hold onto, and I grab a piece of armor that's floating by.

Maybe this is a mistake, maybe this will cost me when all is said and done, but I need something. My fingers are cramping, and I take the risk hoping for the best. Sometimes the risk is worth it, other times it isn't. I take a deep breath and try to steady myself. I'm tired, though. I'm tired of trying to stay afloat. Fighting the water is hard, but I have to remain strong to build up my resume while I still can. I have to keep forcing myself to fight through everything, and I'm not sure if this is enough or if it'll be good enough. I would say that I'm terrified, but I don't want to let the world know. All I can do is keep my face clear of emotions for as long as I can. I know death is just beneath me, and I don't know how much longer I can last, but I'm going to fight, and maybe, just maybe I can actually win.

District Twelve

[googlefont="Oswald:400"]

oggkOM4_v21-1001-100

[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.

rBIaczMnbt4-84-8

[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.

[pearl mcclain d4 [ryan]]

her vision is obstructed just enough due to the shaky lighting that seemed to illuminate the arena. she thought about the time back home in two when she was an abandon hospital late at night with her boys and trying to win a dare. the lights flickered in many places, but none of them seemed to be as scary as the ones in the foyer. she lost track of her friends, and she found herself in the very same foyer that she was scared of. she figured that if she just waited for them to turn up, then she would be saved. it made sense in her head. the lights kept going back and forth, for each second of light there were two of darkness. she didnt breath in the unlit moments.

they didnt come back around to her.

the girl from five is holding out her hand just long enough for mac to grab onto it. mac does not know why she felt called to do such a thing, probably because someone saved her one day too. she is just trying to keep herself afloat, but that does not mean that she cannot do the same thing for someone else. she is in pain, but nothing will stop her will to live. she is stubborn in the worst ways, and she has a feeling that everyone, including herself, knows that.

"dont let go."

mac thought about the time her best friend had been stumbling way too close to one of the many man made cliffs that two was known for. he wasnt paying attention, his feet moving just a little too fast for him to realize that one had stepped a little too far over. he slid down the cliff, but his hands caught the edge right before he tumbled down. mac realized that he had fallen over and she rushed to grab his hands. they locked eyes for a moment and the only words that he could muster was, dont let go.

she pulled him up from that catastrophe, she was only fourteen at the time and barely had any muscle to her, but she did it. when asked how, she just thought about what she would want in a situation like this. her best friend would have done the same for her, and she needed to be strong for him.

mac figured that she needed to be strong for this girl in front of her right now.

she is trying to stagger her breath as she wades in the pool of water just long enough to get the rhythm of the others treading. she kicked her legs for a moment. "i..." she started, her skin searing from all of the glass that had sunk into her body. they are keeping each other alive. they can survive this.

and then her foot kicks one stroke too many and she can feel that foot slip right into a crate that had floated under her. "shit..." she said, looking up at the girl from five and using her other free foot to thrash wildly in the water below.

no matter how much strength she had in her, no matter how much she wanted to live, she knew what this meant. she thought about how the taste of freedom would have been so so sweet, but as her captured foot began to buckle under the weight of the crates lid, she looked at the girl from five and realized that her time was up. just like her district partners.

she pulled the girl close for just a moment, "im sorry..." she promised in her mind that she would hold onto the girls hand with her own life. "... i guess i have to lie to you too..." she then used her other hand to push the girl from five up and over her just enough to get to a less ferocious spot. "...live..." mac started to realize that this is it. this is her time. the crate is too heavy and it begins to win. "...live for us."

mac gives a soft smile one that she hadnt given to anyone in years.

and the water washes over her.

[end mac stonewall]

[Cait]

arlette foy

It’s happening again.

You see the moment unfold, three steps into the future, a repeat of the minutes just passed. You see the girl hold out her hand to you – watch it morph into a safety net that can only hold one of you. Navy blue kindness ripples in front of you. You know what comes next.

What happens first is this: you put your faith in another human, again, as if you had any choice otherwise. And for a moment, you can breathe. You let your body relax slightly, comforted by the weight in your palm. It feels like a mother’s touch; it feels like a stranger’s sacrifice.

You’ve only just grabbed onto the girl’s hand and bundled your way into her chest when one of the pergolas flies past you, directly over the space you had been mere seconds before. There’s a morbid knowledge in the fact that this decision saved your life. But how long can it last? This is what you wonder as you cling tightly to the body next to you.

Over and over, saved.

WHY?

You’ve been told all your life you aren’t worth anything. That you’d be better off dead. That your father’s mistakes made you a terrible person who deserved a similar fate. Call it stubbornness or simply being a moody teenager, but you’ve always been determined to prove them all wrong. Your spirit is everlasting; you don’t know what it is to give up.

You just can’t understand how this place could be so different from your home. How your life means something, in the one place it shouldn’t.

Maybe there’s something to be said about fresh starts.

Granted, this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind.

“Shit...”

Her body lurches down, and you’re pulled under with it. Your own frame tenses up and you hold your breath as you’re plunged deep into the icy water once more. Agonising seconds pass with you kicking against the current, desperate to resurface.

You do.

She doesn’t.

Not immediately. And you don’t know why you do it, but you yank the girl’s arm back up with all of your waning strength to give her a few extra seconds of air to breathe.

Her head emerges next to yours, and it feels like success.

Until you see the glazed look in her eyes, and realise the futility of your attempt.

She slips further away despite her best efforts to break free of the trap she’s slowly succumbing to. You look down into the murky water, wondering how you can save her. How you can repay the favour of a taller boy in navy, because surely you don’t deserve this. Surely you can’t be the one to survive.

Her nails dig into your flesh, but it doesn’t hurt as much as the fresh cuts littered across your skin. You want to tell her to let go – that you want to save her, that you don’t want to drown with her, a cruel mixture of two impossible fates – but your own words ring true in your ear. “Don’t let go.” Above everything, you are not a hypocrite.

If this is how you die, so be it.

“I’m sorry–”

“I’m sorry–”

Overlapping words, to silence.

Beating hearts, slowing down.

The girl smothers you, pushes apologies into your hair that you don’t register until it’s all too late.

“I guess I have to lie to you too.”

She lets go before you can tell her no.

“Live for us.”

With the last dying parts of herself, she pushes you towards the light.