thecapitol | (no subject)

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Mr. Wyatt," Momoko returned, inclining her head. She moved without asking permission to stand beside him. A little behind, even, so if someone tried to come over and socialize she possibly push Wyatt into the way and run for it.

Luckily, with all of the Tributes forced into attendance and the list of Citizens allowed entrance severely limited, the more sociable Tributes seemed to be attracting the worst of the attention. "How much longer?" she asked with distaste, not realizing until it was out of her mouth that she'd spoken out loud.

"Too long," he replied simply, either not realizing she didn't mean to say it aloud, or not caring, as he returned to staring away in the distance and sipping his drink bitterly. "If it's one thing I've come to notice 'bout these folks, they like their punishments to linger."

And that's what this was, Wyatt had decided.

They'd lost the Capital's little game, now they were being punished by being made to sit and smile and act like they were happy for the winner and just pleased-as-punch to be facing down another round in the arena.

"It's more entertaining, of course," agreed Momoko. Complaining about the Capitol, that was something she could get behind. "If it's over too quick it's not nearly as interesting, there's hardly enough time for the audience to understand what's happening. And of course, they want the people to be emotionally invested. Without that, it would just be like watching a slaughterhouse over and over again." She looked over the crowd with a moue of disgust. "Though I'm sure they could get a loyal audience for that as well."

He took a drink, the moment of quiet broken only by the clinking of his ice, and then, because they'd managed to find themselves on the topic and he figured it had to be said sooner or later: "I'm sorry about the arena."

He didn't look at her as he said it, just kept staring straight ahead with that same hard face as before.

Momoko was silent for a long moment, then she carefully shoved whatever emotions wanted to surge up just then back down. She shrugged carelessly and said, "It's the Arena. Death and killing is the point of the Arena. Apologies are pointless. They'll do nothing to stop it from happening again."

His nose wrinkled as he snorted softly, then smoothed again.

"Maybe not, but I'm not them. And irregardless I am sorry." He paused a beat, looked down his nearly empty glass consideringly, and then added. "I just wanted you to know it."

"Well, now I know it," she said, though her voice was softer than the words implied. "I'm...sorry too. For what happened." She wasn't sure if apologizing even made sense in this context--did you apologize for mercy? Or maybe she was sorry for being useless.

She tossed her head and straightened. "I suppose you should know that too," she added haughtily.

He nodded, a quick, simple jerk, and then happily let silence fall between them.

Until, at least, there was movement up on the stage across the way.

"Looks like they're gettin' ready to start." The finally implied by Wyatt's long-suffering tone.

Momoko followed his gaze and nodded. "We'll get to eat at last," she said dryly, because talking about food was a safe subject. She looked over the tables, frowning a little when saw Sammy at her table, but no Tate. Not that that was a bad thing, but she hadn't seen him all night and he was the sort of person she preferred knowing the location of. "I hate assigned seating," she added, almost absently.

Wyatt glanced over at her table, then over at his own.

Proper-Peggy, lookin' pretty as a penny, and Thastus, who was already slouched like a pot-pellied hog and picking his teeth with his fork.

Meeting Wyatt's stare, he shot Wyatt a grin, all teeth, and Wyatt's jaw tightened.

"Trade'ja," he muttered.

"Okay," said Momoko automatically, still frowning at her own table. Now that she looked at it more closely, Tate didn't even have a place set. How had he managed to get out of this, and more importantly, how could Momoko do the same next time? "You'll have to discuss it with them, of course," she said, pointing with her parasol at the Peackeepers all around, then flipping it up and open in one smooth motion.

There's was no real reason to have it open indoors, but she found it comforting, and it might come in handy as a shield when she tried to get through the people to her table.

Wyatt moved to avoid catching the umbrella in the chin - wasn't it bad luck to open those things indoors - then bemusedly held out his elbow.

"Shall I walk the lady to her table?" he offered.

Momoko smiled, small and wry, and put her hand on his elbow. "Yes, you shall," she said.

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Wrapping it Up?

If that's alright?

Yep! Just wanted to make sure

Re: Yep! Just wanted to make sure

no subject