thecapitol | she got legs

Who| Susannah and OPEN
What| Susannah's got some mechanical legs
Where| all over the Capitol!
When| Oh, starting from yesterday, probably, and going up to the Crowning.
Warnings/Notes| Ian C, Eddie, and Felicity will all have closed threads, but feel free to make your own underneath theirs

Eight deaths caused by her hands (including her own) equaled eight envelopes of killmoney. Perhaps it was a bit callous for her to turn around and use it as a downpayment on robot legs, but she wasn't a mentor like Maximus. She couldn't just get them for free. And really, she was lucky to find someone willing to craft and fit them for that little upfront--although she was going to be a walking advertisement for their product now, as well as an actual advertisement in a couple days. It was better than to have to beg the rest of the money from a sponsor--she'd heard some things about what they expected in return.

She was glad, now, that she'd asked Maximus how it felt to use his mechanical leg. It had prepared her.

So now here she is, walking around on a pair of porcelain robot legs with blue detailing, wearing a skirt just far enough past her knees in length for her to really show them off. And she's definitely looking to show them off.

Wheelchair tribute is no more--Susannah's got legs and she (mostly) knows how to use them!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"What?" Carlos starts -- he looks honestly surprised. "Oh, no, I didn't mean anything like that," he protests, embarrassed. "My interest is purely scientific; I -- I was just wondering how they were made."

"Ohhhh. Right." That did make more sense, although she's a little skeptical at the idea that he won't enjoy looking at her legs. "I didn't think robotics were one of your fields, honey. Just cryptozoology and parapsychology."

"Robotics isn't, technically speaking, but I've built machines before. And besides, the Capitol has been extremely tight-fisted with their more advanced technology. I haven't been allowed to study anything more complicated than a food replicator," he complains.

"Do they have their own control mechanisms, or are they connected to your nervous system?"

"The latter, I think," she says after a moment's thought. "I move them like I would have my old legs."

"Can you feel them?" Carlos asks, then pauses. "What I mean is, if you put your hand on them, would you be able to feel it on your leg?"

"Not exactly," Susannah says. "I mean, it you pushed down hard enough, I'd feel the pressure, maybe, but there doesn't seem to be anything in the ceramic that feels like skin feels. Does that make sense?"

He nods. "So, you have conscious and voluntary control, but no real touch receptors. I assume it's not actually made of ceramic; that would be a terribly impractical choice of material, especially for people like us who regularly go into danger. ...do you happen to know what they are made of?"

She shakes her head. "Not off the top of my head, I'm afraid, though it's made to counterfeit it so well I kind of of think of it as ceramic anyway. They gave me a brochure, though." She fishes it out of her handbag and hands it to Carlos.

Carlos takes the brochure and scans it -- most of it is advertisement, but he's able to glean a little bit of information from what technobabble they did put into it.

"Well," he says, looking back up at her, "they're a remarkable piece of technology. They must be durable -- I can't imagine anyone here would create prosthetics for a tribute without the Arena in mind."

"I'm hopin' I get them back if I go down again," she confesses. "They cost enough that I'd rather not have to try and get another pair--and I don't know if they'll want to keep up our deal if I have to get replacements."

"You should probably discuss that with their manufacturers before the next Arena," said Carlos seriously. "Unless you're hoping they'll give you the edge you need to win?"

"That's exactly what I'm hopin'," Susannah answers, "but you're right, I do need to talk to the manufacturer. Thank you."

He smiles at her, and though it's a little sad, acknowledging that they'll be trying to kill each other in an arena again soon enough, it's a sincere one.

"Well, good luck. Or -- what is it they say here? May the odds be in your favor."

A beat.

"Let me know if you're ever willing to let me look over your prosthetics," he adds. Carlos will let her come to him about that.

She smiles back, after a moment. "Maybe some day when I'm wearing pants."

He laughs, and gives her a nod of acknowledgment. "Of course." Examining her prosthetics would be a privilege, not a right, and if it happened, he would make whatever accommodations she needed to feel comfortable.

"I'll see you later."

"You too, Carlos," she replies. They're floormates. She's guaranteed to see him sooner or later.

she got legs

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you can decide what the brochure says

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sorry this is so late, but i think we're almost done anyway

np np! let's finish it!

and done!