thecapitol | Thicker Than Blood Start

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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For some reason, there's two of Jessica in the common room when everyone returns. Or... at least it looks like there's two of her. One of them, the one on the right, is much more conservatively dressed, however. "Are you in trouble?" she's asking the normal-looking Jessica in a low voice. "Is that why they brought me here?"

The last time Karan had seen Shion it was when he'd gone to bed the day Rat had left. She didn't know where this was, but it felt too much like Chronos all over again to keep a minimum of anxiety from bubbling under the surface. She played at the lapels of her coat while she looked around the room. No one else except those that seemed to be in charge seemed to have any idea of what was going on.

Until the "tributes" filed in, and she saw him. His white hair was gone, replaced with a rich purple, but the red mark on his cheek was there. Sure, he'd been changed physically by all that had gone on, but he was still her Shion.

She'd also notice once he was in her arms that he seemed to have filled back out again from when he'd lived in West Block. But she was too busy hugging him as soon as he came into her line of sight to worry too much about that. "Shion...." she whispered.

A dream, they told Juba. He supposed that made sense, though never even in his dreams has he ever seen things such as this.

The garish, painted faces that would have put even the highest of Roman ladies to shame; the strange, gleaming creatures floating about, humming softly, like steel bees; the glass, a single, spotless pane - taller and wider than three men - and the city beyond, shining grander even than Rome had....

How impressed his daughters would be, when he finally returned home, and shared his new-found imagination with them.

Curious, he laid his hands on the cool glass, and smiled, lightly, to himself at the cool feel of it, finding no reason yet to be disturbed.

Not even when he spied the familiar reflection behind him.

It was hardly the first time the dead had paid him a visit in his dreams.

Smile widening, he turned to take in his friend.

"Maximus."

It's a swanky set up, that's for sure.

Prince Ronald of the Southern Isles was lounged casually in an oversized chair like it was a throne lamenting the loss of his favorite swords. Ronald was an avid weapon collector but when he was out on his adventures he favored a longsword and dagger pairing.

He was a strapping large man with a scar on his face hinting at some past scuffle where one could only imagine the state his opponent must have been left in.

Maybe it was magic, maybe it was a dream. All that mattered was the food was good and the girls wandering about were easy on the eyes. He'd get his swords back sooner or later.

Edited 2014-04-14 19:42 (UTC)

The splendor and style of this place only gave option to a number of situations Damon could believe he was in.

Either he had died and this was the waiting room to heaven or hell...

...actually no that was pretty much the only situation he could muse up in his confusion.

Sitting politely at a table he eyed a glass of water suspiciously. He'd watched the silent servant (What did they say his name was? Avox?) pour the water himself for Damon as well as some of the others in the suite...none of them had dropped dead yet.

There was cucumber in the water. What kind of hippie bullshit was that?

Taking off his glasses he cleaned them on his sweater and was struck once again by how completely unsettling it was to be wearing the clothes he last remembered putting on before his death as Big Daddy. Who'd have thought the after life had a waiting room?

Tim Burton, Beetlejuice. That's who.

He smirked, unable to resist a good reference even now. Running his worn fingers through his thinning hair he wondered what sins these other figures had committed to cause them to have to wait here.

One of the figures looked suspiciously like a Batman villain, was that on purpose? Cosplay? Or maybe just Damon's overactive imagination having a bit of fun with him.

Oh well, glancing out the window at the city stretched out below, heaven or hell it was quite a site to behold. He'd never seen New York look so clean and glistening as this city did. Every color his artists eyes could perceive was on display in one form or another.

The young lady had been staring out the windows at the city below, but once the tributes arrive back, she dashes to greet her old friend. "Ian!" she cries. "Oh Ian, it's been months since I saw anyone from the Tardis! Not that I particularly expected a visit, you understand, but I wouldn't have frowned on one either. Do you know when we are? It's not an era I'm familiar with but then I don't know all of Earth's history. I've got us pinpointed geographically, though. I think we're in the Rocky Mountain region of North America. How's Grandfather been? Is he taking care of himself? He's kept to that appearance for so long, I used to worry his body would give out. How's Barbara? Is she--"

She frowns. "Barbara isn't here. Is she?" She takes a deep breath, lets it out. "I'm sorry. I'm babbling, aren't I?"

Kota was used to the weird and unusual. You don't spend decades hiding in the furthest corners of the galaxy to be around the most average people, after all.

But somehow, this all took the cake. The fact that he'd been grabbed and shoved inside a room, one apparently full of people yammering, the fact that he was apparently supposed to be expecting someone... This was a new form of weird for him. He hadn't been that drunk that he'd start hallucinating.

But he could play the game for now. He'd wait and see what was going to happen and react accordingly. Probably. His hungover was pretty bad, and the noise around him wasn't helping.

Edited 2014-04-17 08:25 (UTC)

Nathan was leaning against the wall, cup of coffee in hand. Though the Mastermind was wishing it was something stronger, if this was a dream, like he had been told it was, it would be. He was silent a moment when he saw Eliot.

"You know, this isn't exactly how I thought the band would get back together."

Another day, one more to keep her fingers crossed for Harley. It was a weird way to start it though, that was for sure: more peacekeepers today, of all days, and why the hell had they brought them to that restaurant? Too many questions were unanswered, and she knew she had every reason to be suspicious. Something big was about to go down.

Mindy thought she was ready for anything. Surprise attack. A visit from that president. Her mind was reeling with possibility.

When she was led back to her suite, she could see a gathering of some people. Family? She could see resemblances to some-

She stopped dead when she saw a face. His face. A face that shouldn't have been here, because that was impossible. Riley is here danced around her head, but she couldn't hear that. She couldn't begin to gather the words. All those nights spent remembering that night, wracked with guilt, and what the hell do you know? They brought him back.

Mindy tries to say something, but its caught in her throat. Last time he saw her she was bound to look different: healthier, certainly more muscular. But him? He looked as he had that day.

It was if that thought stopped her from staying rooted on the spot. She burst forward and ran right into him, hugging him with everything she had.

Gale is standing off to the side, staring out the window at the city below. There's food out on the table, but it looks like it hasn't been touched. He's dressed in better clothes than he usually is -- he hadn't been able to fight that -- but they're plain.

When the door to the district opens he turns, and there isn't even a hint of a smile on his face as he sees who it is. There's only a tightening of his jaw.

"Hey, Catnip."

Susan. He never expected to see her here and never wanted to see her here. So he looked amazed to see her, but not pleased. It was just as well she'd been babbling - it saved him from speaking.

"Don't worry." He did smile now because it was good to see a friendly face - someone he knew he could trust. "Barbara's not here and I don't think the Doctor is. I haven't seen him at any rate."

Cyrus Reagan stands apart from the crowd as much as he can. The suites weren't made to accommodate so many people, and he has no interest in sharing a couch with any of the cow-eyed otherworlders crowded into the room; so he waits with his back to the far wall beside the window, his arms crossed and the morning sunlight spilling over one shoulder. Gloved fingers tap an impatient rhythm against his upper arm.

It irks him a little, to be included this way - to be counted among the others here, as though he were a stranger to this place and not the one in the room most intimately familiar with the gears turning behind this organizational nightmare. It'll look good for you! is easy for the publicists to say - those with the luxury of thinking only of how it looks.

There are things that aren't optional - not for Tributes, not for Escorts, and not for presidential cabinet members, and meeting his brother elsewhere was not optional. Not when the cameras are here. But he keeps his irritation off his face-- his expression is clear and neutral, a smile hovering around his eyes, which are turned to the door through which Stephen, he knows, will come at any moment.

There's the one upside to all this: Whatever fear, confusion, and uncertainty the Tributes' loved ones are feeling around him, he has no part in it. He's known for weeks that he's here to see his brother - the one person in all Panem who might make this bearable.

Edited 2014-04-14 19:50 (UTC)

He heard the sound of footsteps on the floor increasing and getting louder. Turning just in time to see her he felt his heart stop and his blood run cold before she crashed into him and hugged him with amazing power for a girl her size.

He returned the hug in kind, practically falling out of his chair to kneel down and bundle her in his deceptively strong arms.

"Oh baby girl...what happened?" He groaned in sorrow. "Why are you here?"

Still unaware this was not the afterlife.

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Page 1 of 27

Thicker Than Blood Start

District 1

District 2

District 3

District 4

District 5

District 6

District 7

District 8

District 9

District 10

District 11

District 12

Elizabeth Wakefield (for Jessica Wakefield)

Karan and Shion | OTA

Juba (for Maximus)

Prince Ronald (Olders Brother 4 of 13) for Prince Hans and OTA

Damon Macready for Mindy

Susan (for Ian)

Rahm Kota (for Starkiller)

Nathan Ford (For Eliot)

Re: Damon Macready for Mindy

Gale (for Katniss)

Re: Susan (for Ian)

Cyrus Reagan, for Stephen

Re: Damon Macready for Mindy