thecapitol | (no subject)

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WHO| Everyone
WHAT| Ariadne's crowning does not go as expected
WHEN| After the arena
WHERE| The Banquet hall in the bottom of the Victor's complex
WARNING/NOTES| The black out lasts about 10-15 minutes. Feel free to start a thread during any part of the proceedings, just clarify in the subject bar.

The celebration this time was private. Of course it was broadcast live to all of Panem, but the victors, the tributes, and a collection of those working closely with them were the only ones in the extravagant banquet hall. Behind them was a carefully selected audience-those known to not cause trouble.

And Peacekeepers. Many, many Peacekeepers.

Snow stood before them, giving a speech geared towards Ariadne’s winning. A mellow girl, a bright girl who found her place in the Games and bloomed.

“Not all of those who come here, unfortunately, choose to be welcomed into our circle.”

Lifting his hand, he gestured for Tate to be brought in from back stage.

“This is bullshit!-” Tate doesn’t remain quiet like he probably should. “You people can just bring people back from the dead in the arena- what’s it matter if anyone else gets hurt? Huh?” His eyes are glaring at every face that looks at him.

He struggles with his hands bound behind his back, two Peacekeepers holding his chicken-winged arms as they bring him onto the stage.

Tate is forced to stand facing the crowd. He doesn’t care how they see him, what they think of him and this shows in the disgust on his face. “So what-”

Before he can say another word the zip sound is heard by those within a few feet of him and he collapses. The small hole on his forehead, bleeding, the only sign of what happened.

“Those who do not appreciate what we do for them...will not be tolerated. If we offer you our gracious hospitality, and you attack those who help you...” He pauses as the crowds shocked silence descends into rabble, waiting for silence again.

However, when the silence came, it wasn't due to anyone waiting for him. The televisions flanking the stage and all across Panem suddenly flickered, before turning to static.

There was a moment, before the screen turned black. And then another before a voice started speaking. It was clearly computer generated, a soothing female tone with no inflections, no Capitol accent. Immediately, across the city, those in control of the Panem broadcast began to scramble, rushing to shut things off.

“This bloodshed proves nothing, this is all just a new game for the Capitol, this is all an attempt to draw your eye away from the power you have, this is-”

And then the power cut out entirely, sending the whole city into Darkness.

In the darkness, Snow was rushed out under protection. The peacekeepers rushed in, trying to hold down peace and order.

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Being part demon, Neeshka actually hasd pretty good night vision. It helped when actually casting "darkness"-- the one spell she knew and had the ability to work-- and for the whole sneaking around to backstab people thing. So when the lights went out, she adjusted quickly, and ducked out of her chair.

The shot had rattled her, she had to admit. Would they bring that Tribute back? Could they, in the non-magical (as she assumed it) non-arena space? But there was nothing to help rattled nerves than the familiar, so she sidled away from the Tributes' tables and back to the guests' tables, a piece of fried mozzarella sticking out of her mouth in the darkness.

She was sneaking through the panic lifting the purses of those compliant and now terrified guests.

Wyatt had no desire to be crushed beneath the paniced stampede and he certainly wouldn't be in any position to help if he were dead, so as soon as the lights had gone out, he'd found his way to a wall (which he wasn't sure) and had put his back to it.

Blood-boiling - no, he wasn't any sort of stranger to public execution, but that had had nothing to do with justice - he waited, the screams and yelps just making him feel more helpless, more useless, and deeping his anger....

It wasn't so much the attempt at his pocket that he felt, but more the sense that someone - something - was far too close, far too still to be appropriate. Instinctively, he reached out, hand striking like a snake, and grabbed a hold of the first soft thing it encountered.

"Whatever it is yer thinkin' about doin', I'd reconsider," he growled.

What he grabbed was a tail, one that tugged against his grip and tried to wriggle free. Neeshka, after all, wasn't dumb enough to try and rob a Tribute when not in the Arena. None of them had anything to take, after all!

"Let me go!" Neeshka hissed at him, recognizing the voice and the angles of his face in the darkness. "I don't mean to be doing anything to you, geez!"

He recognized the voice first... and on the heels of that, picturing her as he remembered her from the arena, came the realization that what he must have had a hold of....

His fist unclenched, as quickly as it had closed, and what could only the strange girl's tail popped free.

"What are you doin', girl? Sulkin' around in this?"

It would almost be funny, if she could more clearly see his expression. As it was, Neeshka just rolled her eyes and went with a useful half-truth. "Getting away from people who might stick a knife in me in the dark, and towards people who probably don't know which end of the knife to hold." And which conveniently had money and jewelry on them. She'd seen the latter, which made her assume the former.

He couldn't see her, but he imagined that same mischevious, too clever, face he'd seen in the arena and immediately doubted that was the whole story.

Still, he didn't take her as the malicious sort and he was reluctant to her let her on with whatever she was really up to lest something did happen to her.

"Might do better for ya if it weren't hangin' out," he replied simply. "Got some wall I can share." He held out a hand, offering help. "Could probably find the door if we follow it."

Neeshka paused, somewhere between touched that he cared and annoyed that he was ruining her plans. The touched part won out, because she was a sucker for somebody being nice to her. She could always sneak back in, or go out on the streets or something. And there was the promise of winning money in the arena.

"Yeah, all right," she gave in. She didn't take his hand, but she did smack it lightly with her tailtip, teasing. "I think the door's off to your left somewhere. My right. I can't see that far, but it looks like it, and there's more light that way." From outside somewhere, she was sure.

His hand twitched instinctively at the touch - but luckily she was quick enough that he didn't accidentally grab a hold again - and his lips twitched in amusement.

Cheek. He liked that.

"You can see in here?" he asked as he began to slide carefully down the wall.

That made sense he supposed, seeing as how she was some sort of demon. Handy talent. One he wouldn't mind having himself.

"Yup! Comes from being part demon." One of the few positives that came with her heritage. It worked well for being a thief. She let him take the lead, her own eyes darting around for anything interesting she could snarch on her way out. "They all come from the hells, after all, so I guess they're bred for it, and I just get it by default. I can actually make darkness, too-- you know, if my magic worked here."

Ooo, more of those tiny pastry things... she snatched one up as they passed a table.

"So that is the term," he said, honestly pleased that he hadn't been inadvertently insulting her or some such by calling her that. "Demon."

He stepped on something soft and immediately hopped forward, grimacing and hoping it was some sort of discarded treat and not a part of somebody lying on the floor in the dark.

"What's the other part?"

That was probably rude, but it was out before he could help himself.

"Tiefling," Neeshka corrected primly. Well, sort of primly, since it was around a mouthful of tiny cake and icing. She neatly sidestepped the mess he stepped in-- fallen potato salad, or something like, lucky for him; it wasn't that much of a bloodbath, not yet anyway-- and explained, "And I suppose the technical word is baatezu or something like that. I've actually got devil blood, not demon, but you know? It's pretty much the same thing."

Well, except that devils were lawful and demons were chaotic, and on totally different sides of the war in hell, but Neeshka didn't care. They were all nasty and untrustworthy. "The other part's human, as far as I can tell. I never knew my parents, though, so I guess I could be part elf or something. That'd be kind of cool. Though I'd probably be a lot younger-looking, if it was elf."

Demons. Elves. Tieflings, devils.... It was crazy, completely over his head.

And incrediably fascinating.

Unbidden, Wyatt found himself smiling.

"That's some pedigree. Makes me feel downright bland," he teased

"You're probably the first person who ever thought that," Neeshka snorted, reaching over to tug him aside, away from a security guard who was bumbling towards them in the dark. She lowered her voice a little, keeping a hold of his sleeve so he wouldn't get too far on his own. "Usually people think I'm kind of, you know, evil or something, not interesting."

He followed her lead without fight, seein' no reason to resist given she could see where he couldn't.

"You honored our deal in the arena," he replied simply. It may not have seemed like all that big a deal to anyone else, but to Wyatt, honor, and intententions, were all that really mattered. "You coulda attacked me as soon as my back was turned, but ya didn't. So, no. You don't seem particularly 'evil' to me."

Wasn't he just so cute? Neeshka patted his arm lightly and grinned, teeth flashing a little in the faint light. "Well, thanks. I appreciate that. Most folks don't bother paying attention to stuff like that, you know. It's kinda nice that people here seem a little... well, less stupid about it all."

Also made fooling people easier, but she was mum on that. Lying by omission was an easy one.

"We're almost at the door, by the way. See that glint underneath there?" She motioned in the right direction, and he might even have been able to see it.

He looked, then nodded - a movement which, for a change, actually made sense in the dark. She could see it.

"Yes, just ahead, to the right like."

Enabled he picked up pace, lengthening his stride.

Neeshka let him, and let go of his arm, too. He could lead the way out, and he could bully them past the peacekeeper-types. "Great, we're almost out!" Even though she'd rather be back there fleecing people. Maybe she could pretend to go back to help more people? Would he fall for that? "Though then who knows what's out there. I wonder how far the light-out stuff goes."

Wyatt squared his shoulders to push clear a path.

"They've got somethin' at least, otherwise where's the light comin' from?"

Hands out, he bumped into the door, found the handle and shoved it open. It opened into more blackness, but this was broken by the bouncing beams of lanterns carried by white-clad peacekeepers who were directing the fleeing crowd.

"There we go." Neeshka looked around the dark room with satisfaction, wincing once when a light caught her currently dark-adjusted eyes. There were way too many Peacekeepers here for her to get anything done, which meant definitely making her excuses to Wyatt.

"You good out here?" she asked. "I think I'm, you know, going to go back in. See who else I can get out."

He turned to look at her, just able now to pick her out in the shifting light. His jaw worked uncertaintly for a moment as he chewed over his thoughts, then, despite his initial instinct, he said, "Be careful, huh?"

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During the blackout

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