Castle Game #1: The Floor is Lava [14/14]

Child's play.

Silk smirked as the game was explained. Jump across the moving furniture and get to the other side. A test of skill, of athletic and gymnastic ability. Silk flicked her hair behind her ear. So far, she hadn't been impressed by any of her fellow competitors. She was a Gingham, and trained in the art of archery; perhaps the only weapon discipline for those with a refined palate. As far as she could tell, she was also the only person to come from district one. Not that she'd bothered to interact with anyone yet.

As much as she hated to admit it, she could agree with Nylon about one thing.

Most people were dreadfully boring. It was an epidemic really. She was never going to find a socialite to marry at this point.  While Velvet was focused on work, and Nylon was happy enough to have a revolving door of one night stands, Silk planned on waiting until she found a wealthy, powerful man to take care of her.  

A prince if you will.

And shame on Nylon for insisting the term she was looking for was sugar daddy. 

So she stretched languidly and catlike, giving the people standing next to her a withering look for not yet taking the leap, and jumped gracefully towards her future as a celebrity.

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Huh.

Sounds easy enough, but if my anxiety's taught me anything it's to never trust the seemingly innocent. Don't touch the floor - or what? You're going to send me back to that hell-hole? I doubt it, that seems to easy. Brain going a thousand miles a minute, fourteen and all I know is how not to die.

So I let the other kids go first. A girl I can only imagine is from One, 016. She's got that kind of stuck-up aura that only a District One girl could have - going first in a competition, show off, I think with a frown. Then a boy who could be from anywhere, 006, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the numbers. They could be something, nothing, everything, and I'm so consumed in my run-away thoughts that I don't realise it's my turn until someone shoves me in the back and I stumble forward.

"Alright, alright, fuck!" I grumble, taking a deep breath.

Just don't die.

She keeps her eyes trained on her shoes as they read the rules - she thinks back to 004's they. They took it; a little question she wonders if she should even bother with trying to answer. But then the host gives their context between a bullet and a death shock and it's better than thinking about that. She peeps through the archway as they read it out: the Floor is Lava.

Welcome to hell. 

Room #1 of Game #1, Theo watches as the first few players go. It makes her knees weak watching them go, 016 running through it as some follow suit. She shuffles forward trying to shake the lump in her throat, but her feet seem so heavy as she toes with the floating furniture. Child's play, just life or death.

The odds aren't awful. 50/50, she looks up in time to see 004 slip - "is she gonna make it-?" A second's recovery as she passes on and a boy follows bat. 011, she keeps reminding herself not to keep tabs. They all know what they signed up for, but she can't help but think how close 004 came to being out. 

Eliminated. 

Come on, Theo, don't die on the first game.

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Stationary targets will be shot, targets who touch the floor will be electrocuted.

Of course.

A game like this was too good to be true. There was destined to be some drawback, and Sorin had felt that from the beginning, but found himself unable to react. He was dead either way. Lose, you die - but if he managed to lose and survive, the gang would be waiting for him in Three with serrated blades in their sleeves. A violent end seemed to be his destiny unless he could crawl his way out of the Hell his father created.

He sighed. The other players in front of him were already succeeding quite well. Such luck and skill could falter at any moment, but he didn't want to think about that. People dying in front of him...from electrocution no less...

The Capitol had always been a cruel place.

His heart pounded in his chest as he eyed the stark white furniture. It's now or never. The longer he waited, the larger the target on his back grew. He did not want to be shot dead from hesitation of all things. He didn't come all this way to fail that badly.

Fingers crossed, teeth clenched, he leapt.


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If it wasn't for a certain someone, Ilana would've been the first one out the gate. She'd already be at the end of this stupid course.

Swear! Pinkie promise!

But since Blondie 001 is still hiding in the corner, Ilana can take her time, that's all that really matters - first the worst, right? Second the best, baby, she's still got it. It's like hopscotch on a snow day - the host introduces a kids game and that's about when Ilana tunes out. The instructions keep crackling over the intercom but she's got eyes and ears elsewhere now, she's moved on. So long, losers! Enjoy your stay.

There's another prize on the line now.

She's standing in the queue flirting with a tall glass of water, twirling her hair like it's taffy, "Unlucky number 13." she says all coyly, like there's substance there, like it's a code word.

Call her a little dangerous - she likes a bad boy.

"If you need some help, I know a thing or two about getting lucky- FU SHIT!" Because then she's falling backwards, hand on her shoulder, 013 just fucking pushed her? Hello? Referee?

Hello?


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It's been a long time since I felt anything. Life in the Capitol turned stale long ago - the gold skyline nothing but an ugly rusting hulk of metal and cheap lights. Leaving was only a matter of time and logistics.

But returning to Twelve was no better. It's still the town I grew up in, and I suppose that's the problem. It's still full of shit and waste and hopelessness. It's people are still broken and dead.

I'm a conqueror. And what happens when there's nothing left to conquer? A man must seeks new lands.

This is my provenance.

Lining up with the other participants I feel like a giant. Half of them are teenagers, shrinking in the shadow of my overbearing figure. If this first game is anything physical, I'm going to eat these kids alive.

The music that plays over the speakers makes me feel like I'm in an elevator at a Capitol shopping mall, it's cheerful tones bring a bemused smile over my half-open mouth. This is all so quaint and strange, and new.

The Floor is Lava

Huh. Can't say I ever played that one, but the concept is simple. I suppose it's similar to avoiding rebel landmines outside the District boundaries. That's something I was always good at - not getting myself blown up.

But I'm not very nimble or agile. This definitely favours the younger participants.

Well, better go. Take a step into the unknown.

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He made it through the first part of the challenge, but there was more to come. Toby had hopped rather gracefully through the furniture in the first room, and now was time for the second. He went through the door on the left and entered the next room. There was a bed and a few other pieces of furniture: he'd passed from the living room to a bedroom*.

He jumped from furniture to furniture, and did his best to stay atop them as they floated there. If he kept on moving, he should be okay. He just had to make sure not to touch the floor. They say the floor is lava, and although it doesn't look like it, he believes them. He knows it'll kill him if he touches it, after all.

Toby wanted the money and the fame. If it weren't for those two things, he wouldn't be here. He didn't exactly want to die, after all. It was just the risk he was taking to get what he wanted.

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Second room:

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