The Fifth Annual Writer Games: The Fall

Task Five: The Fall of the Martyrs

"May I enjoy the wild beasts that are prepared for me. I pray that they would be found eager to rush at me, and I will also entice them to devour me speedily and not deal with me as some, whom out of fear they have not touched. If they are unwilling to assail me, I will compel them to do so. Pardon me; I know what is to my benefit. Now I begin to be a disciple. Let no one, of things visible or invisible, prevent me from attaining to Jesus Christ. Let fire and the cross; let wild beasts; let tearings, breakings, and dislocation of bones; let cutting off of limbs; let shatterings of the whole body; and let all the evil torments of the devil come upon me; only let me attain to Jesus Christ."  - Ignatius of Antioch, in a letter written while preparing to be thrown to beasts

–

A sudden an unexpected turn in the middle of the night:

"Yes, yes, we know sir. Yes, we know that only two died and.... Yes, yes sir. By our calculations the two should be near death but yes, you are true that....yes, it was a sudden act but no...no rebellion."

On a screen, the faces of the dead:

District Six Female, Itinera Traveho [LightOfTheMooneh], and

District Twelve Male, Ares Gannister [-Niners-].

"Yes, both died of self-..."

"Excuse me, Catul—I mean Head Gamemaker, sir."

The room is quiet, heavy, stark. The plans sprawled on backlit tables speak for themselves and everyone silently watches the papers as though they'll move or suddenly show something new. It is now the seventh day. The Capitol expects results, and these are not it. Everything feels like it's crumbling. Everything feels like it's slowly teetering on an edge prepared to topple over.

But every move has a countermove. Every action has a reaction.

"Activate the trackers, and open the cells."

"Systems are a go."

Somewhere, far in the distance, there is a roar.

–

Well, congrats on making it this far! As you can see, we had another drop out, which meant both those up for votes were safe. Also, apologies for posting this late, I fell asleep before I could write it.

THE TASK

It's day seven in the arena, and things are bleak. Your tributes, the martyrs—of themselves, of their family, of Panem—are starting to wane energy-wise. It was so different when there was a foreseeable end, when they knew who they were fighting and why, when they were reading to lay down their lives for their misguided causes. Where is the hope now?

The Gamemakers have decided it's time to speed this up. Clearly the other day's excitement hadn't been enough to sweep up tributes.

Now, in the dead of night, there comes a rumble, low and slow. From the darkness the arena brings forth several mutated mountain lions, twice as large as normal ones, eyes a steel grey with a speck of green iris. Once they hone in on prey, they can hunt it for miles. And your tribute, this time, is prey.

You must over the course of the seventh night/morning/day encounter this beast. What you cannot possibly know, however, is the mountain lion attacks (viciously, with force and gusto and considerable damage) only when a tribute moves away from the Cornucopia. The mountain lion only stalks if a tribute head in to the center, and eventually a collection of the lions will circle a perimeter of a kilometre from the Cornucopia, effectively sealing off access past them and limiting the arena size. I don't care what else you do—have them try to evade the lion, see the lions kill another tribute, your tribute kill another tribute, whatever, even try and kill the lions (impossible), but the task requirement is only that you encounter this beast AND that you have some sort of moral/philosophical dilemma of your choice, I don't care what kind or why. Friendly reminder, though, that the mountain lions aren't just docile hunters. They will pounce if you so much as move in the opposite direction. I'm looking to see how you balance action and character.

BALLOTS/DEATHS

Send the name of TWO TRIBUTES to ballot. A grand total of SEVEN of you have the chance to go up, five will go up, and FOUR will die this round.

WORD LIMIT

No.

SPONSORS

Well, congratulations on a resounding success to the three sponsored tributes this round: Tucker Steppe, Blair Setaria, and Eloise Edith Kovach.

For Eloise, a gift from home: a watch, ticking away the time she has left, which looks all too familiar; a compass, and several packs of rations from Two. Not much, not as much as she might expect, but something goes a long way rather than nothing.

For Blair, a gift scrounged from a Capitol sponsor: a small knife, lip and skin balm, and a small stash of protein bars.

For Tucker, a gift from home, and a gift from Twelve: bread, dense, from Twelve; a small tub of pain ointment; a pair of mittens carefully stitched by Eight.

DUE DATE

Wednesday, August 21, 10pm Atlantic Time.

As always, may the odds be ever in your favour.

If you have any questions don't hesitate to ask.