The Bloodbath [and Games Operation Info]

ooc- Ima kill the NPC D2 male, and edit this post tomorrow--add a pic and quote.

Arcadia London let her Career-Instincts take over. It was the smartest thing to do, as her Career-Instincts were the most useful part about being a Career in the Arena that had been set up for the 52nd Hunger Games. All her training had not been for nothing, and had been worth a lot, actually. Part of her instincts were the senses. Her ears hurt with the constant buzzing as they strained to here every shuffle or sob a Tribute made. Her nostrils flared, as though she could smell out the weaklings of this group, and kill them off before they had a chance to get strong. Even her sense of touch was tingling, and the taste of acid mixed with all the smells, sights, and sounds of the Arena mixed in her mouth. It was a disgusting, bloody taste, but one she would have to get used to. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, and all her senses were average. Maybe her mind was just trying to make her happy but Arcadia knew for sure her sight had adjusted to the survival-mode of the Arena.

Her blue eyes were wide as they desperately tried to take in everything at once. The thing about survival-situations, is they make you dizzy an the world seems so huge. Some of the Tributes heads were whipping back and forth as they adjusted to the feeling. Some seemed rather at ease, and Cady made a point to remember their faces. They were the survivors. In a moment, everything changed. In a moment any thought of the love she had left behind in District Two, or the pain she had felt when Father had offered her a few last tips on how to kill children vanished. It was Arcadia London in the Games. Nothing else would matter because...

The Games had begun.

Cady went through her list of needs, and wants. She needed to find food, water, shelter, and a weapon. She wanted a tent, jacket, and ice-cream, a knife. Run Cady-Bird, run! Father yelled in her head, and she was sure he was yelling it at the huge TV the whole family gathered in front of during the Games. Her feet barely touched the ground as she ran, pushing people out of the way, and getting pushed around herself. Breathing through her nose, she found a good knife deep in the Cornucopia. Arcadia knew other people wouldn't be as lucky as her. Maybe they'd manage to grab a pointed stick, but this knife was a prize.

Father had already told Arcadia, if there were woods, head toward them. They had wild-life to feed off of, and trees to hide in. Most Tributes would be headed that way, but most Tributes weren't Arcadia London. They weren't lightning fast and determined to life. She turned in the direction, to see the District Two Male Tribute fumbling with grabbing a tent. It seemed heavy, and the guy was having trouble with it. It only took a second for Arcadia to come to a screeching hault--almost dropping her precious knife, and rather clumsily slash a line down his back. A cry of pain, he turned around just in time for Arcadia London to make eye-contact. Blue eyes met strange, amber ones, and Cady could say in that moment she hated herself more than anything else in the world. Just as her knife slid across the shocked boys throat, his fist had made contact with her gut. It was enough to knock the wind out of her, but not enough to save the boy. He fell the the ground, blood everywhere. Arcadia grabbed her knife, and in a split-second decision, cut the shirt right off her fellow District-Two Tributes back. It was bloody, but would help to keep her warm when the temperature started to drop.

For a moment Arcadia marveled at what she had just done. It had been good luck on her part, and bad luck on the boys. Her fellow Career had seen Arcadia, but not recognized her, Cady realized that now. He had seen a skinny, little girl and most likely hadn't bothered to try killing her because she wasn't worth it. He hadn't realized who she was or what she was capable of. The thought was scary, as she knew the boy was ten times bigger than her, even with the (few) pounds Cady had gained during her stay at the Capitol. Arcadia would have to thank her Father after she had won the Games, for all the times he had made sure to not feed her. Being skinny and fit had its benefits in the Games! Oh boy, maybe once she'd won, Cady could thank him for forcing her into volunteering for the Games!

Suddenly she came back to reality, and after a few quick calculations in her head, Arcadia realized she had time to bend down and snatch up two more items about to be painted with her fellow Career' blood. A blanket, the better to smother with, and a food-pack the better to choke you ,with. The teen would have liked to get a water-container, or medical supplies, or something more to help her out, but she had to run. She had to win the Games, and standign around like an idiot woudl get her killed. Her blood would mingle with that of her fellow Careers.

With that thought, she started to fly. Cady ran, gasping as the hit to her gut hurt, and the thought of having killed stung a bit. Arcadia London ran, aware of the tears that streaked her face, the foot that had been stepped on by another Tribute, the bruise on her arm, and the throb of her dizzy survival mind. The Games were very unpleasant. With that thought she forced a smile onto her face, and kept on running. It was highly unlikely the Capitol would be showing footage of her running into the woods, instead of the blood-bath, but somebody would be watching her, and somebody would tell somebody else. The news of the murderous, strange District Two female Tribute smiling a she ran would reach most everybody. By the end of the day most good sponsors would have realized the potential Arcadia had.

Cady ran, through the woods now. She was thankful for the tight, neat bun her hair had been swept into, as having her long, honey-colored flying in her face wouldn't have been all that great in the Games. She gripped the bloody shirt of a just-killed boy harder. The Arena was a cruel, hard place to live in. It was a good thing Arcadia London did not intend to stay in the Arena all that long. As she flew, the wind whipping the stray hairs that had fallen down into her face, Cady knew she had made an important decision.

Something in her had screamed when she ran away from the chaos, something in her had told Cady to go back and fight the other Tributes. She knew many ways to fight somebody, and her knife-dagger-thing was just a plus. Slitting throats, slashing faces, stabbing hearts and guts... that was the type of action that would keep the teen interesting. It was a well known fact, Careers who didn't fight within the first few days of the Games were killed off more quickly than t he murderous ones. Cady had sealed her fate in making the Game-Makers notice how entertaining she was when she killed her own Districts Tribute, but to keep within their good graces there would have to be more blood shed. Arcadia London would have to go partially insane.

Some would be troubled by her quick decision to become a lunatic who killed with a smile on her delicate, pretty face. Some would even confront her, but Cady would merely laugh and tell them its always the crazies that get far in life, because anybody whose sane would never jump out of a tree from twenty feet just to land on another Tribute and break their neck before they could look up and see her coming. Only people who were creative about the quick, humane ways they could kill ever got far in the Games. Her dad had been a stupid boy when he decided to kill a weakling Tribute in a slow, painful way. The cries of a dying child had drawn courageous Tributes to London, and led to his ultimate demise at the hands of somebody far weaker, but more driven and wise. Cady refused to make his mistake, and stubbornly knew if she were to die in the Games she would make even her death a gasp-worthy, amazing site to see.

So with all this in mind, she ran harder and faster. Maybe, just maybe if Cady was good enough at staying alive she wouldn't need to exhaust herself with thinking of all the ways to kill a person. Maybe she could survive on talent alone and win in a very honorable way.

Yeah right.