thecapitol | New kind of victory.

Toward the end of the night, Barbara needed anything as a distraction from having to talk and seem happy about all of this. More food than any of them saw in a year, enough heat to make the whole church feel welcoming, everyone freshly scrubbed up and happy.

She didn't know how they had the energy to keep all of this up. She barely did.

"Donatello!" She laughed, holding out her arm to him. "Picked up on any of the line dances this evening?"

"A little bit," Don replied with a smile as her took her arm. Indeed, it felt like no one, not even the turtle, was unaffected by the mood. "Though I warn you, I have two left feet."

At least it wasn't Michelangelo who Barbara was dancing with, who had three left feet.

Edited 2014-01-13 17:44 (UTC)

"Sounds like I'll just have to take the lead!" Her half smile and wink felt easy and natural, part of the public persona that spelled out Barbara Wilson when living in the public eye. No matter how bad he was, it hardly mattered. Him making the effort would have more of an impact on the citizens here than him sticking to the fringes of the crowd.

"Join up in this line here, and I'll face off from right over there. This should start off slow and pick up as we go. Follow my lead!"

That said, she settled into her place in the opposing line, flashing a smile to the woman on her right and making a low comment that had the other giggling. The music started not a beat or two after, Barbara stepping to the side twice and spinning, ending with a clap along with the rest of her line. She indicated for Donatello to attempt the same in the opposite direction with her hands, amused smile keeping her expression warm.

He did have the feeling that would matter. At least, here, among these people, he wasn't just some mindless killer, some turtle-shaped freak to be admired and feared simultaneously. Sure, there were probably people who thought him a freak because he was a turtle, but the difference was that the Capitol admiration felt...forced, artificial, as much as the fashions and the facades of the buildings. These people were more natural. Hiding their more rebellious sentiments, but still much more natural, open.

And him opening up, just a little, would matter. Give them hope, as Mindy said.

Well, its not the tango, so it was easy enough to follow Barbara's lead, at least, which he did easily.

Edited 2014-01-14 16:30 (UTC)

All people needed hope. Even the Capitol.

Theirs just tended to be a little different than the hopes out in the Districts.

Barbara shuttered her thoughts down and shoved them to the side, letting the same smile carry her through as she linked arms with the woman next to her, spinning around, arm in arm. She hoped Donatello caught on to that, that his partner in arms didn't shy away at the last minute from someone so clearly alien, unlike the fetishized tendencies of the Capitol citizenry.

Who knew? Scales might be in these days.

The spin about ended by squaring off with the opposite line, primarily comprised of men facing women (some women faced women, some men faced men, and children still awake enough to participate were peppered throughout). Clapping her hands, she inclined her head forward before she stepped forward, waiting to meet Don in the middle, to link arms and repeat the turn around that had just been preformed before.

"How're you finding the District, Donny?"

"Its a lovely place," Don replied, as he linked his arm with Barbara's again. "They're incredibly kind and open. Its...pretty refreshing."

And he did, indeed, notice. It was...nice. Not to be looked at as a freak, or a curiosity. It was actually...really nice.

"We're in the holiest place in town," she said, voice low and amused. "If they were anything else, I'd be surprised!"

Well played, Capitol, though you know not what you touch.

The twisted around each other once more, then broke arms, heading back to their respective lines.

Oh, that they did not. Once they parted, Don let out the clap, as the music died down again.

"Never did a line dance before tonight."

"So what do you think, now that you have?"

People moved into places for the next dance, but Barbara inclined her head toward the side, where the faux haybales lined in a not quite ring.

"Well," Don replied as he figured out her hint, walking towards the bale. "It was simple. But...fun!"

"Fun!" She laughed, not meanly, giving a nod of her head as if to agree. "That's what dancing's meant to be. I never could tell with all the fancy, odd stuff they call dancing in the Capitol! Guess I'm too country-grown in the end." Everything was light -- the church, her manner, her dress, even the press coverage. Most the Peacekeepers are watching entrances. She wondered when the children were going to be allowed to go home to their freezing-if-not-frozen beds.

Barbara sat down with no sense of flourish, simply folding her legs and using a hand and her rear end to break her fall onto the hay bale. "How've you been settling in with the Capitol appetite?"

"The best-known 'dance' back home that I could kind of do was the Macarena." Don sat down next to her. "Not that it would be a good idea to recreate it - it involves a lot of flailing hands."

He crossed his hands together. It was nice that not all eyes were on him, like back in the Capitol, he had to admit.

"The appetite? You mean food-wise or coverage-wise?"

"Both," she said, smile on her lips, leaning toward Don as if they were sharing some sort of mutual amusement at the situation, basking in the aftermath of quaint boonies celebration. "Might be the small town girl in me, but it always leaves me breathless."

Difficult to tell if it was a good or bad kind of airlessness being implied.

"It...can be...well..." Don admitted. "Even now. I'm still..."

He paused, trying to find a way to explain it. His voice lowers a bit.

"...I'm still a monster, I feel, in their eyes. A mutant. Regardless of my actions, in and out of the game. Even if I hadn't...had everything happen, I'm not human. I know that I'm not like because of who I am. Its because of what I am."

He nodded.

"...Overwhelming is the better word for it."

Edited 2014-01-30 18:48 (UTC)

"Overwhelming sounds like a good one." Part of her wanted to point out that even the human beings were treated as subhuman, but she didn't feel that would be as helpful to him right now. Instead, she allows a certain degree of conversational meandering. "Overwhelmed... I wonder, do you think you can ever be just whelmed? Or even underwhelmed? No one ever talks like they are."

Her lips quirked up as she looked toward the milling crowd of bodies, organized into another semi-familiar dance. "Think we can bring it into popular use? 'I was pleasantly whelmed by our reception.'"

She looked to Donatello, quirking up an eyebrow and waiting for a response. Perhaps a rejoinder?

"...I think whelmed sound like a good idea."

At that, Don stood up.

"The night's still young, after all. Right?"

She grinned, apparently amused. "I don't see the sun peeking over the horizon yet!"

With a nod, Don offered his hand to her.

"Shall we?"

She looks back up at him, thinking for a split second. Then her hand comes up, accepting his offer, and she lets herself be pulled back up on her feet.

"Why not?" She'd rather be moving than sitting down, letting things catch up with her. "Ready to learn another country dance on your feet, Turtle-boy?" She winks, letting it be a playful statement, and a partial challenge.

"Looks like I am," Don replied with a smile. "I wasn't too bad at the first one, after all."

"Let's see if you can keep up at double speed!"

Oh dear. Well, here was hoping for the best. But, he could tell by the smiles and laughter that, even if he failed, they weren't upset. In fact, they...almost seemed proud of him. And Don knew. Even if he didn't know them personally, they were good people.

They didn't deserve what was happening to them, and he had to do something. He couldn't fall apart, not again. He just didn't know how. With all he knew, and all he'd gone through, how the shell was he going to help with something more than just getting people out of the Arena, or watching over a few allies?

Perhaps he could figure it out, after tonight.

They didn't call him the brains of his brothers for nothing, after all. Right?

New kind of victory.

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End here?