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Thinking

Rationalist {Open} Jun 30, 2012 4:49:26 GMT -5

Post by charade on Jun 30, 2012 4:49:26 GMT -5

Josiah Rayner

-I don't belong here-

"And oh, a stroke of bad luck for district one's very own Stark Harper. I certainly hope that wasn't her sword hand!"The announcer chuckled."Now lets see what Jae Moreno is up to shall we?"The camera view changed from a watery sort of cave to a sandy beach area. There, the angle tilted to give a good shot of district ones male tribute running away with his allies, a hacked up tribute on the ground, and another slowly floating away with the rolls of the waves. "Sorry folks, looks like we missed all the action." A mock frown appeared on his face, quickly replaced with a wink and a dashing smile."Thank goodness for the instant reply eh?"

The image on screen was replaced with a face-off between two of the larger alliances left in the arena. The seven tributes flew at each other, the video slowed down or sped up where it was deemed appropriate for the best possible action filled cues. One boy lost an ear as soon as the fight began, before being worn down by his enemies and collapsing onto the sand. It then seemed that the smaller alliance would cut and run, an act it seemed that the Capitol Game-makers grew less fond of with every passing year."Oh, what's that moving over by the waters edge?"The camera zoomed in as a spindly legged crab scuttled out of the surf, before flinging itself at the nearest tribute.

"A latch crab! Why, we haven't seen one of those since the 58th games! Let's watch closely."What followed has a desperate attempt to dislodge the critter which ended in a small explosion that not only burned one tribute but impaled another, striking a fatal blow. The video then resumed the camera's current focus, that of the area deserted by the living."Well folks, there you have it. District nine is clean out of tributes, and district eight has to hang up their coats!"The man chuckled, clearly pleased with his jest concerning district industries. Wiping a mirthful tear from his eye with a well manicured hand, he offered a smile to the screen.[/coral]"We'll be right back after these messages!"

His smiling image faded and gave way to the tinkling of bells and a shine of light."Your favorite tribute in a jam?"said a silky feminine voice. On screen, an old clip of the fifty-ninth games ran by, showing three tributes advancing menacingly on a single girl on a snowy landscape."No way to defend themselves?"A shot of a blind girl stumbling away from the cornucopia without a weapon."Running low on precious commodities?"A female convulsing on unsanitary water."Have they lost the will to live entirely?"Fifty-Seventh victor Heron Kimberling crawling with no legs. A girl stabbing herself in the stomach. A one armed boy setting himself on fire. Reyes Moreno denying Julian Bryze his life."You can help."The screen shifted to still-frames of the last seven victors, before clicking quickly between clips of tributes holding their hands stretched out to the sky as silver parachutes descended towards them."Become a sponsor today. Your victor of choice is only a check away."

The commercial gave way to trumpets and the capitols emblem, the standard before the required public service announcement about why the yearly games needed to be enforced. The unhappy career known as Josiah Rayner took that as his cue to use the bathroom, excusing himself from his seat and promising his parents that he'd return before the arena came back. Easing his way off of the bleachers, he walked stiffly through the throng of people eager to watch the latest on the largest screens the square had to offer. It was the same droll affair every year, though recently things had become rather frenzied, and Josiah found himself to be, in a word, bored.

Sniffing deeply and appreciatively as he passed a concession stand selling baked goods, he pondered the actions and therefore the potential ramifications thereof of his districts current tributes, starting with Stark Harper. Though not from the same stock as say, the magnanimous Morenos or the prestigious Lightwoods, the Harper girl's sharp wit and sharper tongue had given her an edge in popularity. She had proved herself smart in allying with the boy from district two, allowing him to soak up much of the hits as a human meat shield of sorts, all while berating him for lacking the necessary skills for survival. That sort of talk made her endearing to much of the first districts citizens, as Josiah was sure some were still jaded from losing a potential victor to their sister career district, a rivalry that was anything but friendly.

But talked about as she was, others had their hopes and pocketbooks on Jae Moreno, the second from that family to be reaped. Jae had suffered some ill luck right off the bat, losing an eye to a flying mutt early into the game. There had been some buzz when he killed Killian Reese from district twelve; The poorest district hadn't had a victor in five years and the general consensus was to keep it that way. More talked about than any of that however, was Jae's choice of allies. The now deceased boy from nine, a small thing of a girl from district three and the brother of fifty-ninth hunger games victor Mace Emberstatt. A motley crew for certain.

Personally, Josiah found Jae's choice of companions to be the best he could do under the circumstances. It may not make much sense when you looked at it, but history had proven that allying with your district partner was generally fatal, whereas looking out for a victors sibling could score you some valuable sponsorship. The best case of this hearkened to three years ago, when the now infamous Michael Smith had killed Sapphire Ross only a few minutes into the bloodbath. He was then viciously torn apart by all the tributes in the area in a display Josiah saw as an attempt to garner some points with the game-makers.

Sighing with relief as he found the restroom, Josiah relieved himself and went to wash his hands in an ornate sink, sighing again, this time out of boredom. There were so many more things he could be doing with his time than gawking as people killed each other. For one, he could be working on his stage face. Looking at himself in the mirror, he decided he needed to design a new outfit , something with blue, to replace the greenish ensemble he wore at the moment. Light green pants, held up by a black leather belt, the buckle of which was in the shape of a victor crown. The vest he wore was green as well, a much darker shade than his pants, but not dark enough to look like it didn't match. Or so he hoped.

Putting on his best smile, Josiah leaned on the counter in his best imitation of Caesar Flickerman. "Welcome to the sixty-first annual Hunger Games! I'm your host with the most, Josiah Rayner, My, but we're in for a treat this year folks!" He put a finger in his right ear to stand in for an earpiece and made a hissing sound meant to represent hundreds of people cheering.

"This year, we have a tropical arena the likes of which we haven't seen in years, complete with its very own sandcastle! But more on that later, lets see some footage of this years tributes!" Turning the water off, he dried his hands and made for the door. He couldn't spend to much time daydreaming, or his parents would be annoyed at his late return. Josiah grumbled as he pushed the door open and went back out into the sunshine. Why he was required to watch the games he could only presume was a thinly veiled attempt at getting him to want to train more often, or to embarrass him in front of the more well-built careers.

It wasn't like they wanted to parade him around; who would want to say "Oh yes, that underweight stick over there is our pride and joy?" Nor did they need him for conversation. There were plenty of people in attendance in the square, all with about equal views on what made a good tribute and what did not. Josiah assumed some Lightwoods or Morenos were watching the games intently, it must have been rather disappointing for both of the biggest families in the district to get a tribute and for both to come back in coffins instead of parades. It was even rumored that Topaz Ross might be floating around the square, but of that, he doubted.

Given the propensity for district ones failure to produce a victor since the elder Ross girl, it was whispered and gossiped that Topaz must be a horrid mentor, else the District would have been basking in glory in recent years, instead of losing the boasting rights to districts twelve, five, ten, and two. Josiah himself had no comment on that. The victors were a strange secluded bunch, who tended to shy away from dealing with the populace except when required to.

Passing by the concession stand again, his nostrils tickled by the scent of cinnamon, he stopped and purchased a sweet roll from the cart, immediately biting into the warm pasty and letting his mouth fill with the sweet vanilla frosting and detecting a hint of nutmeg. The sounds of people began to grow louder and he knew he getting close to the stands again. Josiah hoped the day would be done soon. Whenever it became clear that further excitement was not going to happen, the throng always dispersed. To be honest, it wasn't very enticing to watch tributes pass out or cry themselves to sleep.

Finishing off the last few delectable bites of his snack, Josiah wiped his hands on his pants and broke into a short trot as he neared his destination. There was never a lot of time for commercials and as he had promised his parents to be back before they ended, he felt he must be short on time. A jangle bounced off the sidewalk and he gasped in exasperation. The change from his food had fallen out of his back pocket. Slowing, he tried to scoop the coins up and keep going, but stumbled, crashing into a small group of people who had been standing only a foot or so away and knocking one person to the ground, knocking the wind out of his own chest.

Great. A delay was just the thing he needed to round out the day. Josiah lay on his stomach for a moment as he collected himself. He hadn't hit his head, which was good. A concussion was not desirable given where he had to get to. The knuckles on his right hand were slightly scraped, and a smudge of dirt ran across both his sleeves. Satisfied that he had suffered nothing serious, he dusted himself off and retrieved his coins.

"Sorry about that..."He wheezed as stood up.

Last Edit: Jun 30, 2012 16:21:38 GMT -5 by charade

16 Jul 12, 23:43
GB: I bet you just sit at your computer with a tea cup and a monocle

Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]
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Rationalist {Open} Jul 1, 2012 23:52:37 GMT -5

Post by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] on Jul 1, 2012 23:52:37 GMT -5

Some of them want to use you, some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you, some of them want to be abused

She might as well have lived in an outer district for how sore a topic the Games had become in the Moreno household. Well, the part of the household she now lived with that she was over-age. The death of Reyes had been hard on some, celebrated by others, but they'd all assumed his reaping had meant a forced break, of that sort that usually came after a speech beginning with, "you've done great work for us, but..." It had been Panem's biggest disappointment to the Moreno adoptees to have one of them reaped. It didn't change their odds, technically, but it had felt like the end to those still eligible.

To Jaguar, it had felt like a promise.

And here it was in the Sixty-First, fulfilled. She hadn't given a flying damn for Reyes, hadn't known him all that well. But she had known Jae and his bright eyes, his chiseled physique. He was an asshole, but so were ninety-percent of the people she was supposedly related to. That had never put Jaguar off, even before she'd been adopted by the Morenos. No, Jae had it, that undefinable quality, one part charisma, one part viciousness, and one part something else that no one - none of her trainers, none of her siblings - had ever been able to name. He had it all, and then some with the looks. She had no idea why the Capitol had allowed them two chances, but she was sure if any of them could capitalize on it, Jae would be the one.

So she'd begun to do silly things. Things like hoping, wishing that she would see him again, that they would finally have a victor, even if it couldn't be her. She watched the Games more intently than she ever had, listened to the pundits and the statistics, and even forked over some of her hard-earned money to sponsor Jae when it was clear he needed it. She wasn't alone. All of her faux-sibs aside, there were plenty of people in support of a District One victor, especially one from such a well-to-do family. She'd immediately found her niche that morning, like every morning, and had chatted through the Games idly, caring far less about her conversation mates than those on the screen.

It was a brutal day for her brother's alliance, but he had made it through relatively unscathed. During one of the longer breaks, Jaguar had followed the gaggle of fans out of the auditorium for some fresh air and drinks. A beer was passed to her, which she promptly returned, and then a glass of white wine. She had taken exactly three sips, flashed a smile at one of the ex-Careers in the pack, when she felt her knees buckle.

Instincts kicked in. She landed gently, although she didn't manage a complete recovery. And the weapon - make that wine glass - in her hand? Not a drop spilled. She looked first at it, smirked, and then felt around with her free hand to check the status of the back of her head and hair. She lifted herself onto her elbows, and finally looked up at the ex-Careers staring in shock at her. "Thanks for the help, assholes," she muttered, blew a bang out of her sight, and turned to the boy who had caused this whole debacle.

"Uh huh," she said in response to his apology, and then brought the glass of wine to her peony-painted lips. She touched her lower lip to it, stained the glass, but didn't drink. "Worried if you don't make it back to the viewing on time your favorite tribute'll die?" Jaguar was only half mocking him. There were many superstitious citizens in Panem, and she had the occasional bout with it herself.

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Last Edit: Jul 1, 2012 23:57:07 GMT -5 by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]

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charade
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Thinking

Rationalist {Open} Jul 2, 2012 3:26:44 GMT -5

Post by charade on Jul 2, 2012 3:26:44 GMT -5

Josiah Rayner

"Tell me, what's wrong with society, when everywhere I look I see,
young girls dying to be on T.V. and they won't stop 'till they've reached their dreams."

"Uh huh," The unimpressed undertone that the voice carried gave Josiah momentary pause. It was the sound of someone who was used to lashing out with their tongue, the like of which he had heard many times before; in the majority of cases as his experience had taught him, it was the vocal stance someone took when they were a bully. It was also decidedly female. Social etiquette dictated that he had only a few moments before he would have to meet the gaze of whoever he had knocked into. Which meant he would have even less time to come up with an elegant solution to his current dilemma.

"Worried if you don't make it back to the viewing on time your favorite tribute'll die?" The comment was meant as a barb, or so he gathered. If it wasn't clearly evident by now, the games were the biggest deal to the lives of most citizens, and a snark filled snip like that was likely aimed at his imagined sensibilities. Fortunately, years of having to deal with bullies of every shape and size had given him sufficient practice at tactful resolutions. Josiah kept dusting himself off, careful to keep his eyes to the ground, noting the pair of stylized footwear as being quite pricey. So, he had probably earned the ire of a snobbish member of the well known upper crust, The difference between them being that while everyone in the district was a member of the upper crust, not everyone was as talked about as others.

The girl, (or young woman, he supposed, judging by the presence of perfume and the tart yet cloying scent of wine) would be expecting further mumbling or perhaps a snide retort in return, if his estimation of her was correct. She was not a brawny male career to be easily dealt with; it was clear she had a brain, and he doubted he could make her feel better about herself by cringing and meekly offering an apology that ended with forking over a personal belonging of some value. Nor did she sound to be overly sultry and flippant if the sarcasm was any indication, so offering a few choice compliments about her looks while demeaning his own was out of the window.

No, this would require a deft touch if he were to avoid exacerbating the situation.

Analyze. Rectify. Absolve. Speech.

One of the most important things he had researched was the art of public speaking, for as he constantly had to rely on your wits to keep his rear out of trouble, the muscle he exercised the most, and therefore the strongest, was his tongue. And since it was folly to attempt lifting weights with his mouth, informational books and medical journals had become as valuable to Josiah as protein shakes and dumbbells were to most of his peers.

The time was ripe for action. Josiah let his arms fall to his sides, and braced himself to face the wine-drinker. If he was to better understand his foe, he would have to fully appraise the situation. An important part of getting someone to listen to you was to maintain eye contact for the duration of the conversation. For example, in the animal kingdom, failing to look another in the eye was a sure sign of weakness, and was often followed by a vicious attack. The district being full of careers as it was, it was not hard to draw the parallels between the hierarchy of his home and the wild animals that lurked somewhere in the forests that separated the districts.

Josiah met her gaze, briefly letting his eyes sweep upward and flick from side to side to get an idea of whom he might be dealing with. A curvy frame, which equaled a pampered lifestyle in his eyes; that or a similar view of training to his. Whatever the case, she was wrapped in finery befitting the most fashion conscious members of society.

A crystal glass was held gracefully and effortlessly in one hand, in a manner that Josiah assumed meant she was used to holding such. The glass was tilted towards her mouth, yet she wasn't drinking; the dark liquid sloshing quietly from side to side. A stain which did not match the beverage coalesced around the rim, and upon closer inspection, he could tell it was the same shade as the coloring on her lips, which were small and turned up in a slight frown. What skin he could see was a snowy white that many girls would want to divest themselves of at the nearest tanning booth.

Short brunette hair, much shorter than what he was used to seeing, framed her head; a surprise, considering how a large group of girls had cheered the last time a hair product advertisement for long luxurious hair had showed up on screen. Apparently the media didn't speak for everyone. Finally, he settled on meeting her gaze, her eyes a shockingly deep version of blue. The overall look on her face? One of amusement? Annoyance? Both? Josiah could only try to find out. It was time put his observations to the test and his misgivings to rest.

"I was only hurrying because I'd told someone I'd be somewhere by now; and I think my wallet could help a tribute much more than my presence in front of a screen."he kept his tone genial but firm. "My apologies miss...?" Josiah put his hands behind his back and clasped his fingers together the way he was wont to do when he was ready to talk his way out of a mess.

16 Jul 12, 23:43
GB: I bet you just sit at your computer with a tea cup and a monocle

Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]
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cameron stood in line for an hour for a stupid ride for me <3 best <3

Rationalist {Open} Jul 6, 2012 23:46:01 GMT -5

Post by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] on Jul 6, 2012 23:46:01 GMT -5

Some of them want to use you, some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you, some of them want to be abused

Great. Some bespectacled dork had dropped her. No wonder her friends had just stared instead of helping. No doubt they were now laughing at her, mocking her "Career status," which she'd worked just as hard as any of them for. Her stomach churned as she sat, drawing her knees back to leverage herself. There was a little kink in her lower back, likely her SI joint, but otherwise she was unharmed. She could back to training that afternoon... if she still trained.

Instead, she took a big, indelicate sip of her wine. And then with far more grace than she should have in her intoxicated state, Jaguar crossed her ankles, pushed her thighs together, and stood up in one fluid motion. The wine swayed from one side of the glass to the other, but it also made a graceful recovery. She smirked. That's how it's done, bitches.

"Moreno," she supplied, her face artfully formed, dimples deepened, smile just at the line of a smirk, eyes full of his face. "Jaguar would be easier, otherwise you're likely to hear from some of my siblings. Why don't you lead the way, Mr...? That way I'm sure not to trip. Again."

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Thinking

Rationalist {Open} Jul 7, 2012 6:56:27 GMT -5

Post by charade on Jul 7, 2012 6:56:27 GMT -5

Josiah Rayner

"Tell me, what's wrong with society, when everywhere I look I see,
Rich guys driving big SUV's while kids are starving in the streets..."

Josiah kept his mouth in a small straight-lined smile as the girl took an unconcerned and altogether unladylike gulp of her beverage. at least she appeared to be both unharmed and only slightly annoyed at the social predicament that he had landed her in. None of the other people in the crowd had anything to say; staring curiously, or taking great pains to avoid looking at the pair. When she made to stand up, she kept an artful grip on her glass, not spilling a single drop as she drew herself up to her full height; which was not that far off from his own.

"Moreno," she slipped out, her visage a pale mask of controlled demure. Her eyes were locked on his, and Josiah suddenly uncomfortably felt like a frightened rabbit about to be swooped down upon and torn apart by the cruel talons of an eagle. She was smiling, but many predators bared their teeth before pouncing on their prey. He had tripped a Moreno. Not just any career trained in the art of killing, but a member of a family well-known for not just having a lot of kids, but adopting many from the group homes and subjecting them to a regimen that groomed each and every single one for victory.

Reyes had stood a good chance the previous year, even slaying his district partner in Avon Lightwood; (Another prime example of how a tributes district partner was almost never on good terms with the other) something that made Josiah wonder if there was bad blood between the two families now. The Moreno boy had done well for himself over the week, killing a few tributes, though the one that stood out in Josiah's mind was the purple-skinned tribute that Reyes had beheaded. Yes, he had gone far, and would have won too; except that his years of career training was apparently no match for the years of career training plus the unbridled hatred for having lost a love to the games that kept Julian Bryze going.

"Jaguar would be easier, otherwise you're likely to hear from some of my siblings." Jaguar? Not the strangest name he had heard, given that many in the first district tried to emulate the Capitol's penchant for abnormal names; else names that were in of themselves, a sign of wealth or power like the Ross's girls and the names they shared with precious stones. But Jaguar Moreno? Jaguars were one of the largest feline predators ever; if the books in the library were to be believed. She did carry herself with a certain cat-like grace. One could only hope she wasn't as territorial as one.

At the mention of her siblings, Josiah felt less like a frightened rabbit and more like a deer surrounded by a pack of ravenous wolves. Seeing as how the Moreno's adopted, her siblings need not look a thing like her; a fact which could possibly be detrimental to his health as, if he couldn't tell who they were, he couldn't get a head start when running away. They were a large family, with Josiah estimating around seven or eight children. Minimum.

"Why don't you lead the way, Mr...? That way I'm sure not to trip. Again." At the tone in her voice, Josiah was beginning to think that perhaps he had misjudged how to deal with her. It might be better to just fork over his money and let her punch him several times. Or, he could continue being tactful."Again, my apologies. I'm Josiah... some call me Josh."He saw no reason to tell her his last name; First off, she probably wouldn't know it, and for a second thing, that might give her a way to track him.

"I've... got to go..."

Keeping his head down, and hoping she was more interested in finishing her wine than coming after him, he hurried away to get away from the career and back to his seat.

****

The following day...

Josiah's parents had woken him up all too early for his liking, but he humored them and got dressed, before eating a quick breakfast of pancakes drizzled with tasty syrup and plump blueberries. The sooner the week was over with, the better, and it was a small price to pay for getting them off of his back about training. Games week was one of the few times they actually acted like he was their son, as well as being one of the few times they were both in uncharacteristically good moods.

He was feeling rather chipper himself, having congratulating himself on keeping away from that Moreno girl for the rest of the previous day. The Rayner family departed and started the walk back to the district square. By the time they got there, the stands were already filling up with citizens eager to see blood spilled. Josiah found a seat as the Capitol emblem faded to show Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman smiling broadly for the camera's.

"Gooood Morning Panem, I'm Caeser Flickerman and we are coming to you LIVE from the Capitol!" It may have just been Josiah's imagination, but he thought he saw the host's teeth sparkle."I'm here today, because Claudius here has promised us something special for this games day." Ever the more flamboyant of the two, Caesar flourished a hand, before adopting a thoughtful look."So, tell us. What's the scoop?"

Josiah watched as Claudius broke into a grin, and without saying a word, clicked a button somewhere and stood with a microphone in one hand. The image shrunk into a small box as the screen filled up with four other views; each square view capturing a different alliance of remaining tributes."Attention tributes!" Claudius Templesmith's voice boomed out, reminding everyone of his status as the famed Games announcer.

In the boxed views, the tributes snap awake, rubbing the sleep from their bleary eyes, and staring around uncertainly. "Congratulations on your longevity! You've made it to the top eleven; only ten more have to die before you make it home! In honor of your continued success, I would like to cordially extend an invitation to each of you to a FEAST held up at our majestic sandcastle!"The crowd started to buzz and titter with excitement; there hadn't been a feast in years, and a feast now was sure to be an amazing event.

"Plenty of goodies will be yours for the taking, so I hope you all decide to stop by! Actually, you don't have much choice, because unlike in the past this feast is mandatory. Of course, I suppose we can't drag you there if you don't want to come..."He paused for a moment, clearly for dramatic affect. A fifth box rises up and pushes the other four to the corners of the screen, taking up the entire middle, with a small view of the hosts at it's bottom right corner.

"But my little friend the Kraken awaits you if you decide to skip out."As if on cue, a colossal tentacle reached up out of the depths of the ocean, waved around in the air a bit, and then disappeared back underwater. The crowd erupted into cheers and hollers at the glimpse of what was most certainly the largest mutt in recent history. Or perhaps the cheers were more for wanting to see a tribute or two face off with it."Astounding!"Flickerman rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

Most of the tributes started moving in the direction of the Sandcastle following the conclusion. The exception being a pair of tributes, one male and one female, who started for the coastline instead. Maybe they figured facing one mutt, regardless of the size was better than having to face nine other armed tributes. Their movement was tracked along with everyone else's, but their screen suddenly grew in size as the camera zoomed in.

"Oho! Looks like some of this years tributes aren't interested in getting any getting any presents! Who are the party poopers?""I believe it's Cyrus Malloc and Jana Hale from districts six and seven respectively.""Six and seven? Why does that sound familiar?"Caesar drummed his fingers uncertainly on his desk for a minute before snapping them together."Of course, there was a similar alliance a few years ago. Roll the clip!"

The middle view changed to that of a scene from the fifty-eighth games. The caption underneath read: D6M Dicentra Gambler & D7F Noelle Pines Vs Pitfall Lizard. The fight was clearly one-sided, but the girl sacrificed herself to let the boy escape,her small frame succumbing to the venom almost instantaneously. Fading back to the hosts, Caesar remarked:"Let's see if this alliance fares better than they did. But right now, The first couple tributes have reached the castle! The feast is in progress!"

The view shifted to a beautiful castle made out of nothing but sand. But what caught everyone's attention was the tributes that had started to fight. Steel shined, weapons flew and blood stained the area. There was a loud squelching noise, and one of the tributes tumbled to ground. However, in the flurry of movement, it could not be clearly seen who had killed who, and Claudius called for a super slow-motion replay.

This time, everyone saw as Stark Harper thrust a gaff through the face of Penelope Libertine, the district four female, killing her instantly. The crowd around Josiah erupted into chants of "Stark! Stark! Stark's won our heart!" and other forms of cheer."Look's like Stark's hooked herself a fish!" Claudius remarked with a wink. The fight continued on, with several teens striking at the district two male tribute; but it was Jae Moreno who finished him off, much to the crowd's general appreciation.

District one was doing quite well so far in the feast, indeed, it seemed it would not last much longer. With the death's of two tributes, the rest hurriedly grabbed for feast items and made to run away, particularly Penelope's former teammates. It was then that Destiny of two neatly severed Jae's left hand, which caused more than a few people to boo and hiss."Goodness, but Jae is just leaving parts of himself all over the arena, isn't he?"

As the adrenaline fueled fight began to dwindle down, Claudius's eyes sparkled. "Ladies and Gentlemen, It's time to release the Kraken." he proclaimed, putting more emphasis on the last three words. The feast was replaced with the two tributes from before, both fighting for their lives as tentacles whipped and flew around them. Josiah heard several oohs and aahs as they dodged the many appendages. Though, the male seemed to be having less luck.

Several deep bruises and bright red lacerations covered his body, and all too soon, a strike knocked him down, crumpling his form to sway softly with the waves."And district six has to call in sick!"The beastie then turned its full attention to Jana Hale, who had actually begun to wound it. It roared in frustration as it tried to tear her apart , but she managed to strike a fatal blow, as the massive mutt's giant eyes became glassy and its tentacles flailed listlessly. The girl from seven hastily attended to some of her many injuries before stumbling away from the scene of carnage. A couple people in the crowd clapped, impressed with her skill. Josiah wondered if she had just won some sponsorship.

The faces of the eleven tributes that had started out with the day appeared next, with red X's crossing out Dante Ramadar, Penelope Libertine and Cyrus Malloc."The camera's will keep rolling, but it seems the excitement might be over for now. Why not grab some refreshment while you wait?"The pair of hosts faded away to a commercial about the importance of betting, and how it stimulated economic growth. Josiah got up to go, bumping shoulders with someone as he descended the stairs.

"scuse me. I- Oh."Josiah grimaced as he realized he had once more, knocked into the young woman known as Jaguar Moreno.