thecapitol | New kind of victory.

Kain wasn't the only one who'd had a mind for the roof. Over by the far-most ledge, was one Albert Wesker. He was dressed, as he so often was, in black. In a suit tonight not unlike the one he'd worn after his win - his stylists wanting everyone to remember their most recent victor - the black fabric broken up tonight by threads of gold, veins the color of sun-ripened wheat, flashing brightly against the setting sun.

He was watching, not the door behind him, but over the ledge to the tiny figures below. The gathering of ants, turned away from the entrance.

In one hand he held an apple, given to him during a brief detour on the "red" floor. A healthy bite was missing from its shining flesh.

He wasn't particularly hungry, but he appreciated the irony.

('Eat of the fruit', said the serpent, 'and you too shall be as God.')

Edited 2014-01-13 15:28 (UTC)

Kain closed the door silently, and noticed there was at least one other person there as he headed over in that direction. He'd planned on staying here on this floor for the rest of the event, at least fireworks would be better seen from a height. But he also felt more comfortable and at ease at such a height, especially compared to some of the cramped quarters he'd been in lately.

He had seen the other man on the train, of course, but hadn't really spoken with him then. He approached now, more to take in the view fully than anything, but after a moment it seemed that he should at least say something.

"They truly must fear these people, to keep them under such control."

Wesker's thumb rubbed thoughtfully over the glossy skin of the apple, the fruit turning under his finger tips.

"It does seem rather excessive, doesn't it," he replied, sounding almost amused.

Nothing said weakness like over compensation.

"One can only imagine the harm they expected."

He punctuated the thought with another bite to his apple, the hard flesh crunching with the same hard snap of bone under his teeth.

Kain leaned a little to look down and get a good view of the people below. He felt much more comfortable up here at this height than he did below. It was far better than the confinement of the train or of walking around 11's streets with the constant Peacekeeper presence.

"Unfortunate that we can't see what they're truly capable of." But- no- he could imagine that would be a disaster. The Capitol probably had measures in place if something like that happened. Still, it was useful to know that they obviously didn't have things fully under control. "I wonder if this unrest is throughout the other districts as well."

He chewed, a thick wet crunch, and swallowed. (There was a shift, inside. His body reacting in surprise to the appear of traditional food. It could process it, but what it took from it was so minimal - the virus and the Capitol's flesh substitute providing all that he needed....)

"I'm sure we'll find out," he mused, apple turning beneath his fingers again, rotating to an unbroken piece of glossy skin. "They may be able to stop these people from speaking out to their fellow districts, but they'll have to work much harder to quiet all the returning tributes."

Did they even realize the power they'd put in the tributes hands?

"They seem to have accomplished as much so far... but it surely can't maintain what they have forever." He'd gathered that it had been this way for quite a while. But something like this, with these constant Games and the rest of it... this can't possibly go on without consequences.

Kain folds his arms and watches as another group is dispersed by the Peacekeepers.

"Such is the fate of all empires," Wesker replied. "As it expected for them to resist, tooth and claw."

Silence descended, broken only by the sharp crunch of Wesker's apple and the distant sounds of the party.

Finally, he turned, eyeing Kain from behind his dark glasses.

"Kain, isn't it? Kain Highwind. You're one of my new tributes."

Kain took his eyes away from the conflicts below. Though the power was so one-sided that it didn't seem fair to even consider them as such.

"That's right." He glanced at Wesker, his own expression overall stoic and neutral. He knew more or less that the mentors were supposed to aid you somehow out there, assist you with supplies when they were needed. So this was one of them. A source of information, for certain. "Is there anything I should expect out of their 'arenas'?"

"Expect nothing," Wesker told him. Advice that was less lyrical, perhaps, than the popular 'expect the unexpected,' but far more useful in his experience. "No two arenas are the same, and along with your fellow tributes - a good number of which are more talented than they look - nothing is ever what it seems."

"That figures. But I would rather be up against other warriors than the alternative." Ever since he'd found out that not everyone who was brought to the Games was even trained to fight... it had bothered him. He has no problem doing what he must to defend against other fighters, at least.

"You'll have your fair share of those," Wesker assured him, head tipped as he eyed Kain speculatively. "I'd advise research, now, while you still have the chance."

Abilities to faces at the very least, if the man was smart.

"It will all become rather more difficult once you're inside the arena."

"I have no use for the Capitol's diversions, anyway. I intend to remain in that training center for most of my time. I assume I could observe the others there..." Where else to better learn of their skills, than through firsthand experience? Unless there's some other means that he doesn't yet know about. He's still finding out the full extent of their technology's capabilities.

"The Capitol has decided that many of the gifts your fellow tributes possess are unsuitable outside of the arena. We are..." His free hand flexed, fingers curling back in against his palm in a hard fist, knuckles cracking softly before his grip released again. He could feel it, the virus in his veins. Still every bit a part of him, but muted. A hum, rather than roar. "...Removed from ourselves. The only way to truly know what your competitors are capable of is to watch the footage."

"I see." More of that technology of theirs. He assumes it's something like the communication devices, being able to capture and watch things that have already happened. It'll take some getting used to. But Kain certainly intends to make himself completely aware of what to expect out there.

"Is there any means to reverse this 'removal' that they've done to us? Do we regain anything within the arena?" He keeps a level tone when he asks, but it's a question he's been meaning to find answers to... it's just not easy finding true answers in a world like this one. But all he wants to know is that his powers aren't gone forever. He dislikes feeling so... heavy, for lack of a better world. He wasn't meant to be rooted to the ground.

"Not as it stands," he murmured, purr hardening. A sharp edge hiding beneath the silk. "How they've accomplished it still remains a mystery."

He had theories, of course, but none of which he'd been able to prove.

"But there are occasionally times within the arena when abilities are unlocked. It seems to be wholly random, decided by the whim of the Gamemakers, and is up to the tributes themselves to discover."

It's better than nothing. It also means that the situation isn't... completely as irreversible as he'd initially thought. Awakening in a strange place had been nothing compared to realizing that he'd lost his specialized ability. He might not be any good at their little social game, but Kain is certain he'd be better suited to figuring out something like that in the arena.

"Then that's something to take advantage of... I should have known they wouldn't completely strip them away. Just enough to keep us under control." It also tells him what he's been wondering, that the Capitol needs to take that step to maintain control. They probably could be more readily defeated, once you got past their technology and overall structure. Perhaps.

"Of course," Wesker replied. "It's a game in the end. Entertainment. They can't risk their audience getting bored."

Getting bored and turning their minds to things more important than who said and did and wore what in the arena.

Idle hands were the devil's work.

He can't resist rolling his eyes, already disliking the whole 'entertainment' angle of the whole thing. Battles to the death, bloodbaths, and so on, he could handle. Hunting others down, being hunted... it was nothing new. But... interviews? The ones he'd had so far were pretty unpleasant.

"I'm not a bard, I'm a warrior. I've no interest in entertaining anyone. Is there no means to avoid their endless interviews?"

Or the sessions with stylists. Stylists, really. They'd spent a maddening amount of time fussing over his hair.

"They have their uses," Wesker told him mildly. "As inane as they are."

He turned back to the ledge, raising the apple toward his mouth again.

"The Games are such a popularity contest as they are a sport of physicality. The more crumbs you give them, the more they're likely to support you when the time comes."

Read, when one was choking to death on their own blood in the arena.

"I suppose I can appreciate making the right kind of allies..." But he just can't see playing along with their interviews, their dressing up, and any of the other social events. Can't they just appreciate that he's skilled out there? "...but I'd still rather it happen on my own terms."

He can tell himself that he'll just avoid needing any assistance out there. But he knows it won't be so easy.

"Who says you can't?" Wesker slanted him a look, red and gold eyes peeking out from the edges of his dark lenses.

Wesker himself was not a darling, prancing and preening and swooning for the crowds, but he maintained a healthy, reliable supply of sponsors. As he'd told the strange green man on the network - respect was universal. (Fear even more so.)

"There's more than one way to play the game."

"Ah, good." It was the first he'd heard there was a possible other angle to take the whole thing. The stylist team had overwhelmed him with all of their various ideas, and, well, the people watching all of this in the Capitol seemed obsessed with social things. "In that case, that's how I intend to play it. I've little patience for anything else."

He wasn't going to be pleasant or answer things when he didn't care to, or any of the rest of it.

"Keep them entertained, and they'll keep you alive."

Entertainment, of course, had many definitions. If Kain wasn't going to coddle them, he was going to have to back it up his strong man routine.

"I'll keep that in mind, if that's how is has to be. I refuse to deal with it in any other way." He wasn't going to go out of his way to be entertaining... but they could think as they would. If he could still gain favor enough to stay alive, that's all that mattered.

"See that you do," Wesker nodded. "And I'll see what can be done for you from the outside. If you have need, ask."

His apple crunched between his teeth, that wet snap like bone.

New kind of victory.

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