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No New Posts Cornucopia

The first glimpse of your new world is mechanical, methodical. Metal lines the interior of this cylindrical room - this tower - that rises up for stories with blinking lights and sounds: soft whirring that purrs like a leopard, curled up along your legs. If you look down, you can't see the bottom.

As the core of the ship, this central terminal seems to be forever moving. Platforms rise up and sink back down, extrude out of the walls and slowly rotate like clockwork. A pattern can be found if you discern it long enough, creating a path that spirals sporadically, eventually, towards the center - a plateau rests there: unmoving, unyielding, big enough for a bloodbath.

Doors line the walls. Some are archways into a vast network of hallways, others seem closed - they are locked with a blinking panel to the right, or welded shut with a steady hand. But you'll need quick thinking to escape this chamber: exits that should be straightforward are instead strange, hanging from the underside of platforms or floating freeform against the wall.

Whether you scale up the walls or drop into the maw, a thought swims beneath the surface: this place was not meant for people.

6 196 the breeze beneath our feet; the starlight waiting above | ∞
by sbeeg
Aug 14, 2019 21:17:24 GMT -5
No New Posts Residential Quarters

You hold your watch to the door’s keypad, requesting clearance and expecting yet another ACCESS DENIED message or perhaps a janitorial closet, bitter with the scent of cleaning chemicals. Instead a light flashes green and the door swoops open to reveal an entire city. There is a feeling of walking into an unfathomable stadium, densely packed homes stacked one atop another to form the wall that rises up, encircling an ominously cracked glass-panel floor that was once the ceiling. No longer a window to the sky, the only constellations visible now are named for safety hazards. Mountains of belongings — clothing, toys, love notes, furniture, toothbrushes, packets of food — both personal and communal, form drifts of wreckage upon the glass like a sudden junkyard created in the settling of the crash. Upon closer look, there are few exterior walls to the cliffside living spaces that surround you. Balconies are divided by little more than swaths of hung fabric, fluttering eerily with the ship’s ventilation system. Elegant spiral staircases swirl up between criss-crossing clotheslines still weighted with laundry, the architecture opening itself at every opportunity with curved archways and rounded corners. Less damaged homes still have beds and tables bolted into place, with shared kitchens and bathrooms at major junctions between sleeping quarters. Dozens of stories above, the most daring explorers will discover a wide open park filled with recreational areas that must once have been filled with bustling life. Playground equipment winds through a curved maze of freestanding walls covered in hand painted murals of all skill levels. Various athletic fields are fitted together like clever puzzle pieces with wide running and biking paths dividing them. Massive sculptures made of eclectic recycled materials are dotted throughout. This was once a vibrant community, but now there is only you and the constant threat of your enemies.

7 42 The Final Straw {Red vs. Eos // Day 7}
by Red Stone {D12F // Cameo}
Jul 30, 2019 13:30:49 GMT -5
No New Posts Lab

The door opens to reveal by far the cleanest room on the ship with the floors looking like they had been buffered recently and no evidence that the ship had been in a wreck aside from the piles of glass set up in little mounds throughout the floor. Eyes adjusting to the darkness will reveal robots next to the piles, as if they had made a nest of glass to sleep in. Make enough noise and small pairs of flickering lights will blink as the robots awaken from their slumber.

Cubicles hang upside down on the ceiling as each level of the lab reveals more wonders. Experiments that had survived the crash and neglect stare out of their glass cages, wondering if each new visitor will be the one to release them. Any wanderer will be safe here as the thick glass holds their occupants…for now.

Papers with strange writings are pinned strategically along the walls, as if someone was leaving a message. One message stands out though, written in plain English: No food in the lab!!

12 81 Here. [Nell day 7]
by cameron
Aug 3, 2019 5:32:44 GMT -5
No New Posts Cargo Hold

A tightly wound double helix staircase leads down into the next room, where upon the first step, the lights turn on in a sequential manner. The eerie humming of the lights diffuses through the immense room, but the lighting is steady and the room awaits exploration. Wooden boxes and metal crates litter the floor and platforms surrounding the room; some have survived the impact of the fall, others are not so fortunate. A quick peek in these boxes will show a variety of items ranging from meal packs to strange items from outside this world. Platforms sit in front of storage containers that are waiting to be unlocked.

10 50 the fall pt ii - [nell/day4]
by cameron
Jul 13, 2019 8:39:32 GMT -5
No New Posts Cable Bridge

Pausing at the airlock before you, it’s no accident that the wall of the hallway leading up to it is lined with twenty-four glass door lockers. Individually labeled by tribute - from District One to Twelve - you find your own name and a custom tailored space suit hanging neatly within. Just your height. Just your size. Trusting your gut, you suit up before holding your watch to the keypad of the airlock. The door whooshes open with a howl as the frigid wind of an arctic landscape sucks at the air all around, nearly pulling you over the edge where part of the ship has broken away and fallen into the ocean thousands of feet below. For the first time, realization hits you that the spacecraft is teetering on the edge of a fractured ice shelf and you can’t help laughing at the irony of this being the only place in the arena where it’s possible to see the stars. The airlock closes behind you with an unsettlingly chipper series of beeps; the only way to go is forward. A terrifying bridge of sparking electrical cables stretches out before you, swinging in the open air, connecting this small ledge to a promise of safer footing on the other side. Gigantic icicles hang from the cables, occasionally breaking off with a startling CRACK in response to the weight of your footsteps. The magnetized boots you wear are the only way it’s possible to hang on in some spots. The sheer wall of ice beside you glints with both beauty and danger, as if it has been keeping all kinds of secrets with the desperate hope of one day sharing them with you.

13 119 in the attic of the universe [cedar v nell day 7]
by cameron
Jul 30, 2019 10:07:54 GMT -5
No New Posts Aeroponic Garden

This ship harbored the world.

You can tell as you step into the colossus of a room: columns bore into the sky, an eerie glow flickering from them amid the gentle twisting of leaves. A still-functioning farmland, plants of all shapes and sizes sprout, hanging down from the ceiling and ripe for the picking. Stairways wrap themselves around cylinders, terraced plots jutting out from each landing. The size of the garden varies: you find yourself walking below acres of wheat, enough for an entire town. Or perhaps you detour among the family plots, a wooden sign denoting a child’s first garden, still stuck into the side of an aeroponic column. Trees, tall and proud, hang the wrong way; their blooms are just beginning to wither, growing long and spindling in their quest to find solid ground - now merely cracked grass beneath your boots.

The air here is fresh - not cold, not stale. Lavender and chamomile, bergamot and rosemary - you can almost breathe here. Somehow, in the hallowed halls that echo with each step of your feet, you have found life. It almost distracts you from the gentle crunching underfoot, of the shadows that dart in the peripherals.

An oasis, after all, is a paradise to be fought for.

12 82 Death of a Tribute, Birth of a Star [Cyril's Death]
by tylerjames
Aug 20, 2019 15:56:14 GMT -5
No New Posts Control Room

Upon entrance to the room, the first noticeable feature is the three large screens at the front of the room, each flickering at a different rate as they await video input. Looking up, each command console is spaced in a circle around the room with a larger oval shaped console coming down from the ceiling. At rest, the console glows with a pulsating blue. Right side up, the console reveals a 3d holographic image of the arena. None of the other command consoles have any labels but instead a unique assortment of switches and buttons asking to be played around with. The floor and ceiling gently slope toward each other from the door to the three large screens, making the smallest room on the ship feel longer than it really is.

The air is chilly close to the screen, the blinking red lights exposing a long crack down the middle screen. Peek through the crack and you would be looking out into a vast white expanse. Now the dents in the wall make sense as you realize that everyone in this room was given a front row seat to the crash that had landed this ship. The front console’s screen has a spider web-like pattern, blocking most of the message, but one word is clear: “Impact—“

9 99 Free. [Nell's Death]
by cameron
Aug 13, 2019 10:47:39 GMT -5

82nd Arena

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82nd Arena
Through empty hallways and cavernous rooms, tributes find their footing in a derelict spaceship - crashed straight into an ice shelf

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