Imeeji Idol Productions ([personal profile] idolpro) wrote2021-10-03 06:05 pm

Hunger Games: Session 9

[ You find yourself in your respective unit's zone, with a mini-map on your phone, as well as your objectives:


Kill as many competitors as you can.
Destroy zones by breaking their statues.
Not enough action = We start killing you :)


Underneath the objectives is the number of revivals you have left, as well as whatever miscellaneous details about scoring points—killing a unitmate results in negative points, five units will be healed at most, etc.

The starting horn sounds. Let the games begin. ]
scattershot: (✶ down where daemons dwell)

Re: WAR. LUST. FIRE. DUST.

[personal profile] scattershot 2021-10-04 06:40 am (UTC)(link)
[It all burns.

[It's sad, she thinks as the sprites dance about her fingers, so sad. There should be people with her. It's sad, that the only audience here is her and the sprites. The shelves are empty, the statue is gone, there should be more but it all burns eventually, in dazzling shades of orange and pink and even blue. The shelves twist and warp and then collapse, the flames lick at the base of the walls and about the counter and the sprites are so happy, so happy. Alisaie smiles.

[It's hot.

[(It's far too hot.)

[She's dimly aware of it. Of the flames on her cheeks, the curling and singing of the hairs at her nape, of the edges of her clothes. And it hurts, but it doesn't trouble her.

[Because everything will burn, eventually--]
scattershot: (✶ stasis loop)

Re: WAR. LUST. FIRE. DUST.

[personal profile] scattershot 2021-10-04 06:48 am (UTC)(link)
[But it's not the heat that drags her down.

[It's not the smoke, coming thicker and thicker; she's choking again, but it's not the lack of air. It's not the flame that does her in.

[She's tired. Alisaie is so very tired...

[Her limbs are heavy, her movements slow. Soon it's all she can do to keep her eyes open, and even the game loses its appeal. She drops to her knees in the center of one aisle, eyes fluttering closed; she falls. In the end, it's almost peaceful: sleep claims her, and then the smoke claims her, and then the flames come for what's left.

[She doesn't feel the worst of it.

[But it all burns, all of it, all the same.]