The Big Applesauce Moderators (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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applesaucedream2014-04-25 09:59 pm
applesaucemod) wrote in applesaucedream2014-04-25 09:59 pm
Entry tags:
- character: daine sarrasri,
- character: gabriel,
- character: johnny truant,
- character: peeta mellark,
- character: spike,
- character: sunshine,
- dropped: aglet bottlerack,
- dropped: aiden,
- dropped: andrew noble,
- dropped: bruce banner,
- dropped: james wood,
- dropped: jennifer strange,
- dropped: jodie holmes,
- dropped: the doctor (8),
- party post,
- retired: peter vincent,
- retired: yuri kostoglodov
May the odds be ever in your favor
In the dream there is a jungle. In the jungle, there is an impossible inland sea, briny like the ocean but surrounded by land on all sides. Around the sea there is a beach, and in the sea there is an island. On the island, there is a a cornucopia, a great curled golden horn with an opening that yawns twenty feet high. Around the cornucopia, land bridges stretch like spokes of a wheel from the island to the beach.
Inside the cornucopia, there are weapons. Everywhere, hidden well enough to escape the attention of all but the most carefully observant, there are cameras. Above is a false sky, an electric dome that stretches over the round expanse of jungle and disguises itself as the illusion of more jungle where it touches the ground. To touch it is to be electrocuted.
Those who hike off into the jungle may not ever reach the edge of the dome and learn how thoroughly they are trapped. An invisible, almost always intangible line extends from each of the island's spokes to the edge of the dome, a barrier between dangers for which there is no warning. Viewed from above, this round jungle begins to resemble a clock with its face divided into twelve wedges that all converge on the cornucopia. Unfortunately for the dreamers, this clock keeps time.
At the stroke of twelve, lightning strikes in the segment toward which the tail of the cornucopia points. At the strike of one, catastrophe moves clockwise and the next segment rains blood. Disaster strikes at the beginning of each hour, moving slowly but inexorably all the way around the jungle until it comes back to the beginning and starts again. Some segments represent near-inevitable death for anyone caught in them at the wrong moment, while others simply torture their captives or twist their perceptions. The beach and the island might seem to represent safety and reprieve, but some threats, like the wall of saltwater that comes crashing through the jungle at ten o'clock, reach even that haven. And though the world outside the jungle may be watching, that world is beyond the dreamers' reach. No one may pass beyond the dome except by awakening from the dream and leaving this place entirely in favor of the waking world.
Welcome to the Quarter Quell.
[Mod note: Same drill as always. All players and characters are welcome, current members or no. Characters will remember or forget any and all dream events at players' discretion. Death in the dream does not result in real death. Post your tags under the header for the section of the clock in which your thread takes place (if the thread takes place in multiple sections, put it under the header for the section in which it begins). Threads can take place at any time; note what time your thread begins when starting a new one so other players know whether the section will be active. Multiple threads per header are allowed. Dream time passes more quickly than real time (and is kind of timey wimey anyway), so feel free to subject your characters to as many or few hours as you wish.]
Inside the cornucopia, there are weapons. Everywhere, hidden well enough to escape the attention of all but the most carefully observant, there are cameras. Above is a false sky, an electric dome that stretches over the round expanse of jungle and disguises itself as the illusion of more jungle where it touches the ground. To touch it is to be electrocuted.
Those who hike off into the jungle may not ever reach the edge of the dome and learn how thoroughly they are trapped. An invisible, almost always intangible line extends from each of the island's spokes to the edge of the dome, a barrier between dangers for which there is no warning. Viewed from above, this round jungle begins to resemble a clock with its face divided into twelve wedges that all converge on the cornucopia. Unfortunately for the dreamers, this clock keeps time.
At the stroke of twelve, lightning strikes in the segment toward which the tail of the cornucopia points. At the strike of one, catastrophe moves clockwise and the next segment rains blood. Disaster strikes at the beginning of each hour, moving slowly but inexorably all the way around the jungle until it comes back to the beginning and starts again. Some segments represent near-inevitable death for anyone caught in them at the wrong moment, while others simply torture their captives or twist their perceptions. The beach and the island might seem to represent safety and reprieve, but some threats, like the wall of saltwater that comes crashing through the jungle at ten o'clock, reach even that haven. And though the world outside the jungle may be watching, that world is beyond the dreamers' reach. No one may pass beyond the dome except by awakening from the dream and leaving this place entirely in favor of the waking world.
Welcome to the Quarter Quell.
[Mod note: Same drill as always. All players and characters are welcome, current members or no. Characters will remember or forget any and all dream events at players' discretion. Death in the dream does not result in real death. Post your tags under the header for the section of the clock in which your thread takes place (if the thread takes place in multiple sections, put it under the header for the section in which it begins). Threads can take place at any time; note what time your thread begins when starting a new one so other players know whether the section will be active. Multiple threads per header are allowed. Dream time passes more quickly than real time (and is kind of timey wimey anyway), so feel free to subject your characters to as many or few hours as you wish.]
no subject
When she holds out her bow, Peeta feels a glimmer of hope. Clutching his stick anchor with one hand, he stretches forward again. After a couple of misses, he manages to grab hold of the bow.
"Got it! Hang on!"
He shifts his body even as he pulls the bow, trying to get his feet under him so that he can haul Daine up out of the ground.
no subject
Then her fingers slip. She pitches forward into the mud before she can do more than gasp. Her head goes under, the mud filling her nose and ears, pressing against her eyelids. One hand, though, is still free, and she tries to stretch it up into the air, hoping Peeta can still get the bow to her. She can feel the mud creeping up her wrist as she continues to sink, and her lungs start to burn. She flexes her fingers desperately, praying to feel the bow again, and she feels something…
And then the swamp takes her hand, too. She can't hold her breath any longer. The swamp seems to squeeze the air out of her as she gasps reflexively, the mud filling her lungs…
… and then she's gone.
no subject
He stares in horror at the spot for a brief, never-ending moment, somehow both completely numb inside and with a roaring in his head. Then, all thought of himself gone, he stumbles forward on his knees, only to find the ground now solid beneath his clawing hands.
"Daine! DAINE!"
There is no answer. He digs at the solid ground and screams her name.