thecapitol | [open] CATCH ALL

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Who| ALL Y'ALL it's a ho down
What| A catch-all reaction log for the plot developments. Saves you from making 5 logs each tbh.
Where| All around the place
When| During and post lock down, 3am~ sunday onward
WARNINGS| Panicking, talk of murder and violence. Singing the songs of panem.

When things like THIS and THIS are going down it's probably a good time to touch base with one another. Face caressing, crying and meaningful stares abound as the Tributes and Staff drag their knuckles hopelessly in an effort to figure out what the fresh hell is going on.

Make your own prompts, feel free to make them closed to specific people.

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Seeing as the District Nine and District Ten suites were only separated by a ceiling and a floor, it should have been relatively easy for Gannicus to go from one floor to another in search of Wyatt Earp, Shooter of Bullets. But it still took Gannicus a long hour to make the relatively short journey, waylaid as he was by the need to confront every single person - Tribute and Peackepeer alike - in demand of any information they had about the prisoners.

When he finally found the District Ten suites Gannicus was ten shades beyond angry. His hands, balled tightly in to fists, were mottled red and bloodied across the knuckles.

"They have your man," He said breathlessly, as if Wyatt might not even have realised.

His head was pounding. So was his heart as he began to understand the situation. As he passed the caved in door down the hall from his own. As he saw the faces of those that remained.

As he took in Gannicus, wavering uncertainly on his feet as the room swam, pointing vaguely to the egg on the back of his head.

"I noticed," he murmured, blinking and trying to shake off the haze. He needed to focus. "Have they said why yet?"

That the man was here, didn't faze him. He hadn't gotten as far to the see the full list yet, so he merely assumed the man was here because of Max too. But that said, if he was here, where was....

"Where's Nasir?"

"Taken with him, sharing same fate," Gannicus replied with grim promptness. Understanding the coverage that streamed from the screens that were usually devoted to broadcasting the Games was beyond him, but in his travels Gannicus had extracted as much as possible from those he'd passed by. With a snarl of frustration he turned on a heel and paced uselessly, fists still painfully clenched, as he rattled through the scant details of what he knew.

"A Roman woman lies dead, and all that were stolen have been branded potential criminal..."

That was a slip of the tongue - she had been a Capitol woman, not Roman - but it was all the same to Gannicus now.

"Do not ask where they are taken to, I have no fucking notion."

"A Roman wom--" Wyatt shook his head, brow furrowed in confusion. "Ya mean a Capitol woman. Who? Did they give her name?"

His first thought was Snow's daughter. That slick, redheaded bitch who turned up whenever there was bad news to be given.

Ariadne's execution. The surprise arenas.

Funnily enough, it never entered his mind to wonder if Max, or Nasir, were actually responsible. It simply didn't matter.

What mattered was that she was important, and if they believed Max had done it....

Gannicus looked up sharply. Had he said Roman? Dogs and wolves were still the same beast, he supposed, but the fact that he had said Roman instead of Capitol set him back a moment.

Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus again. He had only been in the Capitol a short while compared to most of the Tributes; that Penny had been important was clear, but what she actually did Gannicus had no idea.

"The woman possessed two names - one does not stick to memory, but some named her Penny."

Penny.

Wyatt had never encountered the woman up close, but he still knew her well enough by reputation. Knew she ran in the same circle as the other.

It wasn't worse, but it certainly wasn't better.

"Son of'a bitch," he sighed. "Penny's a Peacekeeper. A high rankin' one. Whenever the Capitol wants to punish somebody, they send 'em to her."

Peacekeeper was at least a word that held some weight with Gannicus; he had talked about them with Nasir at the Crowning, discussing the time when Nasir once attacked them and the fact that neither of them understood the weapons they carried. Gannicus had pointed out in stark terms just how mad he thought Nasir had been to attack them when he knew so little - surely he wouldn't have done the same again?

Or at least, surely would have told Gannicus his plan...

Gannicus grimaced and shook his head. "Then they are condemned men. Nasir is no fool, but he will not break kind words if pressed to speak of her death."

"Even if he didn't, they still would be."

Wyatt leaned a hand on the mantle of the fireplace, the wind suddenly taken from him again. Not from an outside blow, but from within as his gut dropping away.

"If the Captiol's determined to place the blame, they won't jus' kill 'em, they'll make an example out of 'em."

He thought of Ariadne again, twitching and jerking on the screens, dying at Penny's hands.

The heavy threat of death that lay behind Wyatt's words hit Gannicus hard. Of course, it stood to reason that the Capitol would seek to do such a thing. It was brutal and typical. These people were Roman.

Facing death in the arena was one thing but what Wyatt was implying was another. Gannicus would not let a brother fall to such an ignoble, glorious end for a crime that Gannicus isn't even entirely sure he has committed.

"They will try," He replied darkly, before promptly turning on his heel and heading for the door.

His heart leapt at the oath, instinct telling him to go with Gannicus, to fight and to kill and do whatever it took.... but he knew better.

They wouldn't get through the front door and Max would still right where the Capitol wanted him.

"Gannicus." He called the man's name, paused, a moment's hesitation for the man he barely knew, then pressed on. "Don't do nothin' foolish. ...Think it through. Have a drink."

His step didn't so much as falter by a fraction as Wyatt called out. It wasn't until he reached the door that the other man's word even seem to register. Gannicus paused, one bruised and split hand resting on the frame, and turned to smile blankly back at Wyatt by the fireplace.

"Many an impossible deed has been born of my foolishness before now," He replied, suddenly all confidence and blackly cavalier laughter. "I need only one more."

Wyatt studied him for a moment, head throbbing behind his eyes.

"Maybe," he allowed after a beat, exhaling a long beat through his nose. "But if yer wrong, who's gunna help me when I give it a go?"

He laughed again, this time uneasily.

"If I am proved wrong then I hope I am dead enough to not feel the sting of it."

For a moment Gannicus looked like he would say something else - then he visibly backtracked and shook his head in frustration. The memory of Nasir's warnings that they were being watched - and listened to - at even the most impossible moments through mysterious means weighed heavily in the back of his mind. He turned serious.

"I leave to find more information. We will share words again," he promised.

He nodded, but despite the urge to repeat himself - to push the idea of a drink (to push Gannicus toward the Speakeasy) - he said nothing more.

Once was idle conversation; twice was suspicious.

And he needed the Speakeasy standing long enough to talk to Elias.

Gannicus lingered for a moment, still with one hand on the door. He isn't sure where he will find Wyatt again, but he supposed it didn't matter. Gannicus would find him again by hook or by crook.

"We will share words," He repeated, stronger this time, before nodding one and striding confidently away.

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