thecapitol | (no subject)

Who| Everyone, pretty much. Particularly Secret Santa people and those Creuntus is fucking with.
What| Holiday times!
Where| The Tribute Training center
When| The whole week, but Creuntus' gifts arrive today.
Warnings/Notes| none atm. Please add any in thread headers. Also, for secret santa, if you are the giver start a thread with your giftee's name (unless you two have worked something else out between you). You can use the District threads below, or choose a different setting of your own.

Every floor public space is dripping with holiday decorations.

The decorations are themed, ridiculously so. Every surface is covered, and a table sits proudly full of holiday treats and spirits, kept stocked constantly by the avoxes. Cheerful music plays softly throughout the whole building, though luckily for everyone the Capitol doesn't really know what Christmas carols are.

Those with secret santa's have a cheery, passive-aggressive note reminding them not to disappoint anyone and ruin their holiday.

Those that have expressed a want for some object from home will find a box on their bed sometime during the day, with a merry holiday greeting from Cruentus. Inside they will find the object of their desire, or something similar, crafted from their words.

In blown glass. Pretty, decorative, utterly useless.

Bert's guns, Punchy's goggles, Sigma's music box, Maximus' leg, Mindy's knife, Terezi's dragon cane...on and on, as many gifts as Creuntus could find out. Those that were with them when they were pulled are more perfect replicas, those that they have just described obviously have an artistic touch to them.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hearing the words Kurloz says hits him more than he should. It...It's all true, isn't it? He would know. He, of all trolls, would know about sin, about guilt, about what a troll could and could not do. The church taught him, society taught him, long before he would ever be the one in charge of what happened to the guilty.

He takes a deep breath, and he trembles still, and he won't stop trembling for a while, but he's had a moment of clarity. A moment of realization. He never did anything wrong. He never did anything worse than wanting to be happy, than fighting for that happiness and his right to it. All he ever did was try to have the life that he deserved to have.

"You're right." Of course he's right. "I'm not him anymore, and I never thhould have been."

He leans into the touch, closing his eyes. "What thhould it be?"

He rises up on his knees just enough and pulls Mituna's head down simultaneously, to press his lips to the top of his head. Then, he wraps his arms around him to pull him close.

"ANYTHING ELSE. Whatever all a motherfucker wants at it to be," He says. "THEY GOT FOR BOOKS, JUST ALL MADE THE FUCK UP OF WORDS, LISTED. Could find for something up within them pages. SOMETHING WHAT ALL FITS AND AIN'T GOT NO MARK HARSH ON A BROTHER. Something what all your own self would choose."

He pulls back, with another kiss to Mituna's forhead. His face twists back to bitterness and he hovers a hand over the glass rig-piece, not quite touching. Almost as if touching it might make it real, might make come all to life. Bring her here, even. "AND THIS BIT OF MOTHERFUCKING BLASPHEMY WOULD ALL AIN'T SHOULDN'T NEVER ALL HAVE GOT TO HAVING EXISTENCE NEEDS TO STOP HAVING SUCH. Tell me what all a brother wants at to do because if he don't want for breaking it I motherfucking will."

He leans into the kisses, letting out a soft sigh. He's never truly though about titles. Not really. Titles are important, but he wasn't one of those trolls who would have the luxury of picking his own. As a wiggler he would have never dared to think of what he could be as an adult, and he wasn't even adult when he escaped. Still, even then, he wouldn't consider naming himself, going with what he was called most.

He lets out another, deeper sigh, pulling back to look at his Kurloz. "I don't know. I'm not...I'm not very good with wordth." He wouldn't even be able to read the words in the books the other troll is talking about. "And who knows what the bookth they have hear are even like? They're probably all jutht hoity-toity and ridiculouth."

He pushes the glass into his hands, looking Kurloz in the eye. "Break it. I don't need anything like it anymore."

It's pushed into his hands and in his mind, for the briefest second, it spreads like a poison. But he takes it and grips it. This was the end of Mituna's freedom. This is his sin, crafted to form. Pink. Ugly. He looks at Mituna like he's not quite sure suddenly. Should it not be he who breaks it? To break free of this? But, no, he thinks, maybe it's not about that at all. Maybe his moirail would rather see him do it. Maybe the choice to do it matters.

His face resolves and he nods, walking away. Mirth damn it all. He knows what he's chosen.

At proper distance, he turns back around, gives the glass eye piece one last look. He did this. Never the fuck again, he promises. "FOR YOU," He says out loud. He lifts the eye piece high, like it's just a smaller version of club. Then, quickly, violently, he brings down.

It shatters over the floor, glass skittering in all directions. It sounds like chimes. It sparkles like motherfucking stardust. There's just one scratch on him, just the littlest bit of indigo on his hand. He stares at all for a moment and laughs- it's only a little deranged.

He steps right around and over it all, back to Mituna. He reaches for Mituna's hand and kisses the top of it.

"I can be your words," he says. "HEAR FOR ALL WHATEVER YOU WANT TO BE AND FOR YOU I WILL FIND IT. Only need for what all that is. ONLY NEED TO HEAR IT."

Maybe it's cruel of him, to test Kurloz the way he does. He knows - it's hard not to know - of the guilt Kurloz carries for things that he hasn't even done before, that he won't do for sweeps. He knows that nothing will change the fact the Kurloz helps catch him, helps the Empress, and is responsible for the thousands of sweeps he's spent in the helm so far, and for the thousands of sweeps that he'll continue to spend in it if he ever leaves Panem.

He knows all of that, but now it's just as much a burden of Kurloz's as it is his, and having him break the replica would probably be more cathartic for someone filled with so much rage and anger as he has.

The Psiioniic's lips quirk into a small smile, and he twists his wrist so he can cup Kurloz's cheek. "Alright. Let'th thart at the beginning of the alphabet, then."

He purrs, quietly. Start with the beginning, his moirail says. Alright. He assumes human beginnings since he can't all imagine it being otherwise.

He rambles off, muttering, "Adaptive... ACQUIRER... affluent...AR...GUABLY? Alacrity-" He looks up. "NO, NO, THAT AIN'T MOTHERFUCKING RIGHT... analyser..."

The Initiate stops, sighs heavily, and runs a hand through his hair. "THIS IS LIKE AT TO TAKE A LONG DAMN TIME ALL AIN'T IT?" He asks no one in particular.

"Assenter..."

He watches him for a moment, before he chuckles softly. "Are you going to go through every word?"

His hand sneaks up, and he scritches at the base of Kurloz's horn. "Becauthe I think that might be a bit much, honethtly." But his voice is dripping with fondness, and once again he's struck with wonder. He was truly blessed to have a moirail like Kurloz, and he wasn't even someone who really bought into the idea of a Messiah, or some great power who could change his life.

It all felt so much like fate, but he had such a hard time believing that there was someone out there handing him a gift.

His head tilts into his moirail's touch, eyes closing, breath shuddering all right into an even purr. He hums through it too, in non-response to Mituna's comment. His eyes open part-way, near delirious with pity-fondness and contentment.

"GOT TO FIND ONE WHAT WORKS. One what all a brother likes," He purrs. "PERHAPS ALL HE COULD GO AT BY OTHER END OF THE LIST..."

The Initiate doesn't have slightest doubt that fate is involved. He of course, is well buried in the belief the Messiahs have bestowed this on him. And he is grateful.

Edited 2014-03-28 01:37 (UTC)