thecapitol | Thicker Than Blood Start

For Tributes with keen eyes, they'll notice that Peacekeeper presence seems increased and yet infinitely more ineffective in the last few weeks. Peacekeepers seem harried, as do the Stylists, and most of the Escorts titter and plot without alerting the Tributes as to what, exactly, is so exciting. They simply say that this weekend they'll know.

And so it happens that on the weekend in question, the Tributes are woken by their Escorts early and brought to a restaurant for a hearty breakfast. The restaurant is nothing spectacular, although they seem to be trying to make an impression on the television cameras that float around. The sleepy, cranky meal goes by and then the Tributes are led back to their Suites for a mandatory meeting.

Sitting on couches and the floor, in chairs and on windowsills, standing off to the side - people from the Tributes' homes are waiting to greet them in each District Suite. Some are confused, some accepting, some frightened and some elated to see their beloved. Either way, it should be an eventful reunion.

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This place is strange, and while they've assured her that she's safe-- that all is well- and that she'd soon be seeing someone very dear to her... Well, Musichetta couldn't help her nerves. She felt out of place and even more, she looked out of place.

She looked around to see how the other 'visitors' were faring, some as anxious as she, others at complete ease. She didn't have much time to think on it, really, as the door opened and the 'tributes', as she was told they were called, started to come in. One by one. Until she saw him.

The color drained from her face and if she weren't already sitting, she'd have collapsed into the chair. "Joly?"

Joly may not have been here long, but he has been here quite long enough, thank you, to know that when the escorts are involved in dragging the entire lot of them somewhere, he is probably not going to remotely enjoy what is happening next. Truly, the only thing in all of this that he is not sure of is whether there will be any physical sorts of discomforts associated with the newest surprise.

That is probably why, as he makes his way back to the suite, there is a slight, worried frown on his face, and then, as he comes in, grows. And it is not that he is not happy to see her, but, he understands now, why Courfeyrac felt as he did when they met in the Arena. For a moment, he cannot remotely come up with anything at all to say, and just stares at her for a long moment.

He has been so careful not to mention either of them, anyone, really, by name, as if that would be some protection.

"Mezanmi", He is muttering, even as he reaches to grasp her hands, to ensure that she is real, the expression of very real dismay slipping out, because, somehow, invoking God in French hardly seems like ENOUGH right now.

"How is it they managed to lure you here? Of all the things, my dearest, they cannot..."

He grabs her hands and oh dear God above, it isn't one of those hallucinations she's been having over time. This was too real to be the dream they insisted it was. Musichetta squeezes his hands, trying to keep her wits about her. He was dead. They were dead, so how was he here? Was it truly that cruel of a dream to bring her the taste of what she had before she'd wake and find it gone?

"Lure... How is it you are alive, my darling? You-- I've been told this is a dream, though that sounds preposterous even now as I recall it. When, in a dream, have you ever been assured it is such?"

A pause and she draws his hands up to her lips, her own hands trembling in is, before pressing a faint kiss to each one. "Do not be so dismayed, all will be well, I promise it."

Even if she did not know how...

No, it is surely not hallucination, not from his end of things either. She is here, near enough to touch, to smell, and Joly wants nothing more than to pull her close to him and hold her forever,and, well, all right, he IS going to do that, why waste that moment as it is granted now? Later, it will be different, so different that the thought has him fully trembling now, but if he can simply bury himself in Musichetta for a moment, to pretend that things are otherwise.

"How is it that I...what?" he asks, surprise coloring the words at that. Dead...is he somehow dead at home then? Had their barricade, even after he had left it, lead to such as that? The idea that he will not be coming home to her for certain is painful, though not so much of a shock, really, and all that he might do is cling for a moment.

"I would not have had you sent here, to this, though I have longed to see you so very much. I simply...you are unharmed thus far?" He added quickly. "There is much here, where we are now, that..."

Thicker Than Blood Start

Musichetta (for Joly)

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