thecapitol | [Closed]

Who| Quintus and Emily
What| Quintus is sick and Emily insists on taking care of him
Where| Quintus' apartment
When| Backdated to the day of Quintus' broadcast
Warnings/Notes| None inherent

At 6pm Emily's waiting in the central commons of the Training Centre, a flask full of chicken soup under one arm. She's irritated at Quintus for insisting on continuing to work when he was clearly under the weather, and even more so for his paranoia over giving out his address. She imagined him leading her through all sorts of back alleys and taking the long way round so she'd have no idea how to get back there, and she's not sure she has the patience to continue humouring him. Her own paranoia has begun to set in too now, knowing that they'll surely be spotted leaving together. Gossip about her supposed love life was rampant enough without people thinking she was hooking up with a Peacekeeper, too.

She waves him over, looking him up and down, none too pleased. "You look just as bad as you sounded. You should be tucked up in bed, not sweating over your desk."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I've lost a lot of good people." He sets the picture down, pointing out faces in the old photo on the wall. "He was killed in action. This guy here put in his twenty years, went home to his wife and kid in Three, and then--you know."

He shakes his head. "Though it's not all bad. This one's back in Two, living comfortably off his pension; this one got promoted to commander in Six, and this guy transferred to the Capitol about a year and a half after I did. Last I heard he was working private security for some pretty high-profile clients."

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, not feeling much sorry at all for losing Peacekeepers, but knowing what it was like to lose comrades and becoming the last one left carrying the flame. "At least some of them got a good life. That's rare for Districters."

"Yeah. And you know, I think that's all some of them really wanted. To do their time, get paid and have it good." He lets his hand drop, his gaze remote. "I don't think that would be enough for me, especially after everything I've seen. I've got to keep fighting for something."

She looks at him a little uncertainly, more due to her own current fragility rather than doubting him. "What are you fighting for?"

"Order," he says, glancing back at her. "I don't believe in much, but I believe in that. And I tell you, sometimes it's a tough wall to hold up, but I've had enough of the alternative for one lifetime."

Order makes sense as a concept, but it's a hard thing to endorse entirely in reality, having seen the consequences of disrupting it first hand. She still looks rather uneasy. "That's the sort of fight that can very easily lead to the wrong people becoming casualties."

He chuckles softly. "I wish it were that simple--saying these guys are right, these guys are wrong. That the good guys just have to beat the bad guys and we'll all be okay. You know it's not. You know that sometimes sacrifices have got to be made, and whether they're always worth it--it's hard to say. I'm not sure if that's the sort of call I'm equipped to make. All I can do is deal on the level of the structure and try to keep things from getting worse."

Emily lets out a short, bitter laugh. "Don't let the rest of the Capitol hear you say that. You're very close to saying that they aren't infallible."

"How disgustingly treasonous of me." He rolls his eyes.

After a lapse of silence, he rests a hand on her shoulder. "Do you want to try to eat something else? I could pull out some oatmeal or make tea or something."

"No, no, I'm fine." She runs a hand through her hair, sighing. "You don't need to host me, that's not why I came over. I'm sorry things turned out like this."

"Well, we got some conversation out of it, anyway." He says with a shrug. "I can't always talk too freely with the guys at work on account of the cameras and all, so I appreciate it."

"It comes to something when even you're worried about the cameras, and you're the one in charge of them," she says a little bitterly. "It's nice to not be monitored for once, though. To feel like we can speak freely to an extent, at least."

"We've got a good handle on the footage, but I'd rather not have anything on record that might look bad. Someone's got to be promoting tact and professionalism around here."

His expression, again on the verge of wry humor, stills a little. "And do do me a favor and don't repeat some of the things I said tonight. I don't want either of us to land in trouble."

"Of course I won't. After so many years in the Games, I've learned discretion."

[Closed]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject