thecapitol | (no subject)

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WHO| Everyone
WHAT| Ariadne's crowning does not go as expected
WHEN| After the arena
WHERE| The Banquet hall in the bottom of the Victor's complex
WARNING/NOTES| The black out lasts about 10-15 minutes. Feel free to start a thread during any part of the proceedings, just clarify in the subject bar.

The celebration this time was private. Of course it was broadcast live to all of Panem, but the victors, the tributes, and a collection of those working closely with them were the only ones in the extravagant banquet hall. Behind them was a carefully selected audience-those known to not cause trouble.

And Peacekeepers. Many, many Peacekeepers.

Snow stood before them, giving a speech geared towards Ariadne’s winning. A mellow girl, a bright girl who found her place in the Games and bloomed.

“Not all of those who come here, unfortunately, choose to be welcomed into our circle.”

Lifting his hand, he gestured for Tate to be brought in from back stage.

“This is bullshit!-” Tate doesn’t remain quiet like he probably should. “You people can just bring people back from the dead in the arena- what’s it matter if anyone else gets hurt? Huh?” His eyes are glaring at every face that looks at him.

He struggles with his hands bound behind his back, two Peacekeepers holding his chicken-winged arms as they bring him onto the stage.

Tate is forced to stand facing the crowd. He doesn’t care how they see him, what they think of him and this shows in the disgust on his face. “So what-”

Before he can say another word the zip sound is heard by those within a few feet of him and he collapses. The small hole on his forehead, bleeding, the only sign of what happened.

“Those who do not appreciate what we do for them...will not be tolerated. If we offer you our gracious hospitality, and you attack those who help you...” He pauses as the crowds shocked silence descends into rabble, waiting for silence again.

However, when the silence came, it wasn't due to anyone waiting for him. The televisions flanking the stage and all across Panem suddenly flickered, before turning to static.

There was a moment, before the screen turned black. And then another before a voice started speaking. It was clearly computer generated, a soothing female tone with no inflections, no Capitol accent. Immediately, across the city, those in control of the Panem broadcast began to scramble, rushing to shut things off.

“This bloodshed proves nothing, this is all just a new game for the Capitol, this is all an attempt to draw your eye away from the power you have, this is-”

And then the power cut out entirely, sending the whole city into Darkness.

In the darkness, Snow was rushed out under protection. The peacekeepers rushed in, trying to hold down peace and order.

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Night-sighted at least in part, Neeshka could hardly miss the multi-legged monster hopping up onto the table. She had accepted his appearance by now, at least, and wasn't about to attack him on reflex. She sidled away from the banquet guest she'd just snitched a gold bracelet off of, and up to crouch beside his perch.

"What're you watching for?" she hissed at him curiously, tucking the pretty bit away in a pocket for later fencing. If she could find a fence, anyway.

He turned two of his eight eyes towards her, the rest still scanning the crowd. "I don't trust the guards," he said softly, both mouths whispering at once.

"Yeah, well, I don't, either." Neeshka didn't trust much of anybody or anything, particularly not here. But the creepy multi-limbed monster was kind of interesting, anyway. She flicked one ear and looked sidelong at him. "So how's standing on a table helping with that?"

He was taller than the crowd anyway, at his nearly eight-feet-tall, so it was a valid question.

"No one wants to run into something like me in the dark. I'm being out of the way."

"Oh, so you're being all polite by standing on the table. And it's got nothing to do with the guards." Neeshka nodded mock-knowingly, arms crossed over her chest and eyes on said guards, starting to move through the crowd. Then she grinned suddenly and suggested, "Or is it self-preservation cuz you don't trust them to not shoot you if they bump you?"

"Yes, there is that," he acknowledged, with a glance down at her. "Or someone might scream and panic, and panic spreads. What are you?" he added abruptly.

Neeshka was used to that question. Hearing it coming from a thing with lots of eyes-- that can move independently from each other-- and lots of legs and arms and things was just rich. She snorted a little, flicking her tail a little harder and looking back out over the crowd. "I'm a tiefling. That means I'm part demons. I'm not evil or unlucky or cursed, though, promise."

"I think we are all unlucky," he countered, looking up at the body on the dais. "We're here, aren't we?"

"You know, I never thought about it like that." Neeshka sidled away from one of the semi-panicked patrons, not another tribute, and turned the question back on Some. "So what are you, huh? You're way weirder-looking than me." Tact was not Neeshka's strong point.

He gave her a narrow look, but it was nothing he hadn't heard before, and so he shrugged, all four shoulders rolling together in an imitation of the human gesture.

"I'm a grue. And I'm not weird, I'm just not yet another human-shaped-thing."

"Which makes you weird to human-shaped things," Neeshka shrugged, rolling her eyes at him. At least she only had two of them. "If you get to ask me what I am, you don't get to complain when I ask you what you are. I mean, really. I think I've heard of grues before, though. Guys that eat you if you're alone in the dark."

She wondered if she ought to be worried. Maybe not. She, after all, could see just fine.

He straightened abruptly back to his full height, looking down at her in his startlement.

"You've heard of grues?"

"Well, sure. Live underground, spooky dark-living critters, dangerous to adventurers looking for treasure...." They were, after all, unbeknownst to them both from a similar mythos: table-top roleplay. Neeshka looked him over in the dark, somewhere between speculative and nervous. "Never knew you guys were smart or anything, though. I always figured grues were more like, I don't know, trolls. Or displacer beasts, even. All claws and teeth and no brains. Shows what adventurers know, right?" She flashed him a bright grin, mostly to hide that him being at full height and on top of a table made him look a bit more dangerous again.

"We aren't as smart as humans, but we are smart," he said defensively, lower jaw working side to side. Covertly, he glanced at his claws, which weren't that impressive.

"Hey, like I said, shows what we know-- which isn't much, right? I don't think anybody's even actually seen one of you guys and lived to write down anything about you, you know? It's always all in the dark and stuff." Which was kind of silly, when she thought about it, considering she could see just fine in the dark, right now, for a little ways anyway. The security guards were starting to clean up a bit, from the look of things, finally. Maybe tieflings just didn't really bother with it. Or other underground-dwellers like the drow or something.

Some's hackles, the ridge of fur that ran up the back of his neck to the crest of his head, were finally beginning to ease, and he sat, hind legs folding under himself, but didn't jump down. Not yet.

"Even your kind?" he asked, cocking his head. "We wouldn't attack you."

"Well, uh." Neeshka looked away with a sheepish little smile. "I've kind of never actually done a lot of dealing with 'my kind'. Tieflings aren't generally the kind to help each other out, you know, and demons-- well, you just wanna avoid them in general, really. So if they all know more about grues than I do, they haven't really had a chance to share. I grew up above ground, you know."

"Ah." Some ran a hand over his scalp, smoothing his hackles the rest of the way down. "My kind is very family-bound. Before I was taken to Bete Noire, in all my life I'd only met two people who weren't family."

"Wow. I can't even imagine that." Neeshka was half jealous and half incredulous. It seemed kind of crazy, to only know family. "I don't even know what my parents are, exactly, let alone anything about them. I never even met them, that I remember." She had a feeling she'd been deposited on that church doorstep as soon as she'd been born, pretty much.

As the room quieted, stage by stage, Some stepped to the edge of the table, crouching there a moment before he slunk down to floor level. He turned to offer her a hand, if she wanted one.

"I am sorry, but that sounds awful."

"Eh. Can't miss what you never knew, right? I made my way all right without 'em." That was how she usually handled her past: it sucked, but she didn't care. It was over with.

Neeshka wasn't on the table, so she didn't need his hand, but she did take it anyway and examined it like she wanted to examine his nail polish. Not that he was wearing any. "They're still bigger claws than mine," she decided, before letting him go.

Startled, he let her hold his hand to examine it, the six, strange long fingers curling in. She was the first person to touch him, aside from his stylists, since he'd come here.

"... I'm going to go see if anyone needs help."

"Sure thing." Neeshka was happy enough to let him go. She could probably fleece another person or two of their purses before they got the lights on, regardless of what those Peacekeepers were up to. She stepped back and grinned. "Good luck with that! I'll just keep staying out of the way."

Because that was totally what she was doing. Yup.

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