Author's Games Entries

Task Two: Pavement

Cold, rigid air. It spoke in low tones and as Pavement stood atop a pillar of ice he wondered when he became King of the world and for how long it'd last. Both questions were answered as a countdown began from sixty. The only thing he could do was look past Cherry-Apple What's-Her-Name and watch Sam. Sam had a plan, he knew what to do, and by God, he looked hella sexy doing it.

"You ready?" Pavement shouted over to him, "because I sure as hell ain't!"

"Are you talking to me?" Crazy-Name girl asked.

Pavement cursed. "No! I'm talking to the hot guy bundled up like an Eskimo!"

"Oh." She pouted, then groaned. "It's freezing!"

No shit.

Twenty seconds left and Pavement was still trying to get Sam to notice him. God, what the hell! "Samuel Markaine," he shouted, "look the fuck at me!"

Sam finally did turn, and when he did there was a smile on his face and a challenge in his eye. He'd look sexy if not for the extra thick pants and jacket. Pavement was wearing the same thing. They had on combat bots that weren't too hot and an extra jacket that was thick. Gloves coated their fingers, but offered little to help keep away the biting air. A blue bald-cap- thing with ear flaps took away all their amazing hair, and the winter hat was far too cliche for Pavement's tastes. Sam's mouth moved but all Pavement heard was the wind screaming past.

Just as the timer ended he really looked down at the arena, taking it all in at once. Others jumped, some fell, but all reached the water. His head swirled around, realizing what he'd gotten himself in.

To the north, mountains lined the arena with snow coated tops and enough drop offs to make him cry. It was filled with inclines far too steep for Pavement's well toned ass, and he wasn't going to bother climbing them, even if they did have a fantastic view of the arena.

Below him was a large body of water, where bits of ice led to the Cornucopia. The Cornucopia wasn't close to solid as it tipped about. Lots of weapons lined it. Even some glorious blades glinted in the beautiful snowy surface. More weapons, boxes, and some supplies bobbed in the water. Right beside it, to the east of something, was a shoreline coated with snow and red-material that looked like mucus.

The last thing he saw before plunging was thick, insanely thick, forestry. Lots of pines and bare trees in the back, all the ugly stuff that no one wanted anywhere in their yard. There, everything was tightly packed, but not half as tight as his stomach as he fell sixty plus feet to hit ice-cold water head on. Spreading out his arms, Pavement screamed at the top of his lungs and began to swim. Every stroke was large and lead him straight to the Cornucopia. Though he hated every second of the cold, it was beautiful.

The rest of the arena was entirely made of water, which would be fine if it were seventy degrees Fahrenheit. But it wasn't. It was frozen and cold and basically horrible outside and there was nothing Pavement wanted more than to just swim away from it all. Instead, he propelled himself to the midst of it all and climbed onto the rocky Cornucopia, grinning wildly as he watched the others get there. Four was the first to arrive, but he didn't touch either of them. Instead, Pavement waited for eleven to get up there and that's when he began to fight. Swinging his arms wildly, he attacked the guy, picking up a shiny mace and bashing in his face. It splattered about, the blood, and coated Pavement's clothes. Delirious and wild with adrenaline that pumped through his body, Pavement bashed in the guys head until he quit moving and a cannon went off. He hit him twice after that, enjoying the swing.

"Fuck, this feels good," he muttered. Across from him, Woody had entered the scene. The wild boy from seven grabbed an ax and went to town with it, and after Pavement gave him a wink he too went to town. Smashing a smaller girl in the back. Cutting her arm clean off with the mace before going and spotting what he had come there to find in the first place: A brand new sword, heavy handled, and framed in a red ribbon that mimicked the crimson liquid so desired by the strong boy. "This is better than sex."