thecapitol | She has to pick-a-pocket or two -ooo, she has to pick-a-pocket or two.

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She has to pick-a-pocket or two -ooo, she has to pick-a-pocket or two.

WHO| Eponine and OPEN
WHAT|Eponine's ran out of money on the credit card thingy and she's quite got the taste for the high life, soooooooooooo she's supplementing herself the best way she knows how. Which means you guys (and Capitol citizens) might find their pockets a wee bit lighter. Or you can just catch her at it. Either or.
WHEN| Around five days after the tributes are given their credit cards.
WHERE| Central The streets of the Capitol.
WARNINGS/NOTES| Pickpocketing and thieving abound. I suppose if your character's natural reaction is to swear. I dunno. It's completely up to you if you catch her!
Cut for length

Eponine has mixed feelings about this new life in this strange place. The natural citizens of the place remind her of the 'lovely ladies' she'd see at home in the parks, which she finds strange. And of course, there is the whole idea that people want to kill her for entertainment. Death as entertainment she can understand; did the crowds not flock to the guillotine in Paris? But her death? And her continued ressurection to be reslaughtered in thenastiest of conditions? Eponine had decided that she'd rather face her father and his gang five times over than go back to the arena. She was a lowlife and a petty criminal, but she was not that low and she would not sink to that level.

On the other hand, though, Eponine loved the decadence of the city, with it's bright colours and rich foods and sumptuous materials. She had clothes, strange clothes, and people fussing over her and as much food as she wanted. It was like being in heaven. And she longed to properly belong to the Capitol.

She certainly had the spending down to a t. Eponine had spent her whole allowance within five days of being given it, something which she regretted. Had she not meant to save it so that she could take it home? It was a problem indeed, but one Eponine knew how to solve. As she walked through the streets, easily noticeable in a long skirt and reasonably modest blouse, she slipped her hand into the pocket of a Capitol man, withdrawing a small wallet, which she pocketed quickly. Again and again, she pounced, choosing her targets carefully.

And again and again, she was foiled at the last moment. Sighing, Eponine turned a corner. This street was busier, and she'd be less obvious. Carefully, she moved on silent feet towards the nearest person not paying attention. You. She considered carefully, before slipping her hand into the pocket where she saw the biggest bulge.

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It really wasn't a good idea to try and rob a thief. Neeshka always kept close watch on her pockets-- mostly because she had stuff she'd stolen in there-- and when she felt something or someone sneak at one of the stolen lumps, she lashed her tail to swat the intruder away, and looked over her shoulder with an annoyed expression.

"Hey!"

She, unlike Eponine, had taken to slightly more modern clothes. Trousers, of course, with lots of pockets in them, a vest over a close-fitting, long-sleeved shirt, and gloves-- under a very stylish winter coat, with a woolen sleeve sort of thing on her tail, against the cold.

In fairness, she had no idea that she was robbing a thief.

Eponine jumped when that tail moved. She had sure it had been an embellishment, like so much of the rest of the Capitol stuff. A fake tail. Why someone would want one, Eponine couldn't fathom, but each to their own.

She jerked her hand away immediately as Neeshka looked back at her, and she muttered an old excuse;

"Excuse me. I was pushed."

"Uh-huh. Somebody pushed your hand right into my pocket." Neeshka smirked at Eponine, looking her over with curiosity. One of the other Tributes, wasn't she? Interesting to know there were two thieves around.

She couldn't resist a little bragging, in that case. She was sure she was a better thief than this kid, anyway. "I know all the tricks, and that one? A really bad one. At least to use on me."

Eponine returned the curious look, though she bristled at the slur at her 'talents'.

"Oh yeah? So why is it so bad to use on you? I've got a lot of catches with that one. I bet you don't know ANY tricks."

Eponine's ashamed of knowing the tricks of a good theft, if she's honest with herself, but she'd be damned if she was going to show that to this girl.

"Who are you, anyway?"

"Neeshka, Tribute from District Five." Neeshka stuck her hand out cheerfully enough, aiming for a handshake, now that she had her scolding of the other girl out of the way. "And I was the best thief in Neverwinter, I'll have you know."

Eponine eyed her warily for a moment, before putting her hand to Neeshka's and shaking.

"Eponine, Madame. They say it is District Three I fight for. But... what is Neverwinter? I have never heard of such a place."

Neeshka had a pretty good grip-- not overly strong, but then, strength was not her best attribute. But she still had a good handshake. You know, for a part-demon who made her living by stealing things. "It's a big city on the Sword Coast."

She paused, glancing around, and admitted, "Maybe not as big as this city. But still very big. I guess since we're all from different worlds or planes of existence or something, though, you won't have heard of it."

Well, for a half starved street child, Eponine had a reasonable grip too, and she shook hands, pulling Neeshka's hand down hard and fast, just the once, before letting go.

"I have never heard of Sword Coast... I am from Paris, but... people here tell me I am from their past. I suppose this is a magical place, that these people have magic that have brought us here. I never believed in magic before... I like it here - when we are not fighting. Do you?"

"And I've never heard of Paris, either. Oh, well." Neeshka shrugged the whole thing off, and rather prudently, she thouoght, tucked her hands into her pockets. It helped keep them warm, too. "I do kinda like it here. I mean, they feed us awesome food, give us nice beds and magical heading and cool are when you need it, and all you have to do is kill people! Who then come back to live all healed up, no scars or anything, so there's no point in even feeling bad about it!"

Not that Neeshka really seemed the type to feel too bad about it. She was, after all, a Faerun adventurer. She'd done a lot of killing-- orcs and zombies especially, but there'd been plenty of human cultists and guards and such in there, too.

"Do you not mind the killing, then?"

Eponine, by the horrified expression on her face, clearly does. She crosses her arms over her skinny waist, hugging herself tight. She's obviously uncomfortable.

"That is something I do not want to do. I will do a lot, Madame... but I don't want to kill anybody."

"Not really. I've had more than enough people trying to kill me, that I'm used to defending myself." Neeshka shrugged again, this time more deliberately, consciously shrugging off her past again, like always. "The horns and tail tend to, you know, make people want to burn me at the stake or impale me on pitchforks or something like that."

Still, that wasn't really important anymore, was it? Nobody here had any designs on stakes in piles of wood and she doubted anyone knew what a pitchfork was actually for, much less had one. "But if you don't want to kill anybody," she continued, more cheerfully, "then you can just get really good at hiding, I suppose. It won't last you forever, but it'll last you a while. And then you'll just come back again!"

Eponine considers. She's not very clued up on the bible, though she does have the vague idea that the devil has horns and a tail, as well as hooves and a pitchfork.

"Shouldn't you be impaling people on pitchforks? Though... is the devil not red? Or was it black? I have seen a lot of pictures, but it was a long, long time ago. I thought the devil was a man, too?"

She frowns, out of pure concentration. "Are you really the devil? - wait, hiding, Madame?"

Eponine smiles. "I did that last time. I hid in a ditch for over a week, but I was so hungry, I had to go back, and that was when I was killed, you know? I would rather just stay here, though. It would be better, instead of having no food again."

"No, I'm not really the devil," Neeshka said, rolling her eyes. "My grandpa was a Fiend, I guess, but I never met him." That she knew of, anyway. She had a suspicion or two about that one guy they met back on her world, but then, she wasn't about to go making accusations. Especially when she wasn't likely to ever see him again.

"But I am kind of red," she added, sticking to talking about herself. "I mean, my hair is, and I've got these spots here--" She flicked a finger at her forehead and the ruddy mottling there. "I'm more red than you are, so I guess that kind of counts, right?"

A fiend? Eponine doesn't understand what that is, but she believes Neeshka at least, when the - can Eponine still call her a girl? A woman? - girl says she isn't the devil.

"Did you always look like this then? It is not the additions that these people have made?"

She looks at Neeshka critically as she points out the reddish tones, and busts into a laugh.

"I do not know. Perhaps colour doesn't matter. I have been called an angel before now, and a devil as well. But it is all the same to me. So what the hell; we must carry on and live as well as we can."

"You're just human," Neeshka snorted lightly. "Whoever was calling you those other things doesn't know what he's talking about. But yeah, I was born like this. A tiefling. Part demon, cursed one, hellborn, you know the drill, I'm sure. Kind of got me in trouble, being a little kid with horns and all, but it could be worse."

She stepped over to Eponine and slung an arm around her shoulders, intending to lead her out of the crowded street. "Come on. Let's get some drinks and we can share tricks of the trade, or something. I haven't talked to another thief in forever."

She didn't know the drill, actually. She had no idea what Neeshka was talking about, but she didn't want to look unintelligent. And so Eponine nodded.

"There is nothing wrong being a human...is there?"

Well, the embrace was the last thing she had expected, and Eponine stiffened automatically as Neeshka put her arm over Eponine's shoulder. But she loosened up when she realised that was all Neeshka was planning on doing. Eponine followed Neeshka quite willingly, still unsure of where she was going in this strange city.

"Are you proud to be a thief then, Madame? You speak of it as if it is a good thing to do."

Alex was out exploring the city, a hat pulled down low to obscure his features. He was more than tired of the times the locals would recognize him as a Tribute and he did his best to avoid eye contact. At the same time, it was difficult not to stand out as he still couldn't accustom himself to the strange fashions of the Capitol. His clothing was as close to his normal attire as he could get it, though his stylist was still unable to understand the concept of trainers.

Just because he was avoiding eye contact didn't mean he wasn't looking at anyone though. So when he saw a slight girl slip up next to a prosperous looking Capital citizen near him (though to be fair they all looked rather prosperous), he had a feeling he knew what she was doing. Were he employing the techniques his uncle had taught him on the streets of Prague, he'd have picked out the same mark.

He slowed his steps so he fell in next to her. "Sure you want to do that?" he asked quietly, his voice almost lost in the clamor of the crowd around them.

Eponine jumped; she hadn't been expecting anyone to notice what she was doing. These Capitol people, they were so self-obsessed, so taken by the displays in the windows and 'celebrity spotting' that Eponine had found them relatively easy pickings.

She whipped her hand away from the man's pocket as soon as the boy spoke to her, letting the Capitol man go on with his business.

"Don't know what you're talkin' about, M'sieur. I've not done anything."

Eponine looked Alex up and down; like her, he didn't wear the Capitol fashions, though to her, his clothes still looked unusual.

"Are you a Tribute here?"

Alex held back a chuckle.

"Perhaps not yet," he replied back in French. He was fluent, but carried an ever so slight English accent. "But you were about to do something. And considering what they do to random people, tossing us into death matches, I don't think it's a good idea to find out what they do to pick pockets."

And you speak French? You are the first! You must be clever... A student?

[Eponine doesn't realise she had spoken that aloud. She grins back at Alex after a minute.]

they won't kill me here. They will have me die in that arena where they can see the magic picture. But there I will die anyway; kik-kik. I may as well make some money first. They will not notice; these people are rich. Did you die too, in there? That is not something I wish to do again.

((kik-kik = all the same))

"I traveled a lot with my uncle. We spent some time in France when I was younger."

And he took French at school, but he was already fluent at that point.

"Twice. I've died in there twice and I would prefer to not add a third time. But doing this--" meaning the pickpocketing "--is not safe. There are worse things than death."

"Did you like it? France, I mean? I would like to travel - see England and Italy and the other places I am told about... I suppose I have travelled now though - and through time, though it sounds mad! Such a thing should not be possible."

She looks at Alex, considering. "How will you avoid death, M'sieur? I am not afraid of jail, though. I have been locked up before; it is not such a bad thing."

"It was nice. The food was very good and I enjoyed the weather."

The last couple of times he'd been to France hadn't been quite so nice, but that wasn't France's fault.

He frowns a little at her last question. "By not getting killed by someone else. I almost managed it the first time." He hadn't reckoned for a shark though. He almost wished he shared her view of being locked up. She must have had more pleasant captors than him.

Pleasant captors, or terrible living conditions. Although, admittedly, the police were like giant cuddly teddies compared to his.
She couldn't relate to his portrayal of France, either. Good food? And good weather. It had been a rainy day when she left.

"And how do you not get killed? I tried hiding, but I was still killed by the first person I met."

True, hiding didn't always work. And it wasn't like he would have been able to hide from that earthquake in the last arena.

"Luck. That's what it comes down to. The only other option is to be the one doing the killing."

He knows he shouldn't be talking like this. For all he knows, she's pulling the wool over his eyes and is actually some sort of French assassin. He's pretty sure she's not though. She moves more like a thief than an assassin.

"I'm not going to do that. I am not going to kill."
Eponine replies quickly, almost as if Alex had been trying to insult her. Her lack of murders is what separates her from her Papa and the gang, the complete scum of her society and she doesn't want to sink lower than what she is. Marius would never speak to her again if he thought she was a murderer.

Eponine realises immediately that she should not have told this boy that; that he could use it against her and kill her. But it is too late to un-say it, so she decides to brazen it out.

"I would rather die early and come back here. I like it in the city. So much food! Why would you try to fight when you can come back to this?"

"Because I want to go home," Alex replies. "Every time I die I get further and further from home."

Every time he dies he's forced to think about all the people in his life that died and never came back. If not for a chance illness he would have died with his parents. And over the last year and a half he should have died multiple times, but he didn't. Now, he's here, in this bizarre place where he either has to kill or die. And he can't kill, he can't let these Capitol people break him, turn him into the sort of person he's tried so hard not to become.

"All I know how to do anymore... is fight."

"How? Why do you get further?"

Eponine is tactless at best. But her expression softens. Nobody, no matter what age or sex should be forced to fight.

"Have you been here long? Can you not - run away or, or REFUSE? They cannot make you fight if you do not want to. Can they?"

Alex shakes his head, not ready to talk to anyone yet about his losses. At the same time, he's said more to this girl than the other people he'd spoken to here, probably because she was closer to his age than the rest.

"I've been here four months. The day I arrived, they chucked me into the Arena. That alone tells us how little they care about what we do or do not want. We're not people to them; we're toys. And what do you do with a toy that doesn't work they way you want it to? You throw it away."

"This is what they did to me, too. I had no idea what was happening. But this arena was my first one."

She smiles sympathetically. "It is horrible, no?"

Is that what you do with a toy that doesn't work? That is NOT what you do in Eponine's world. You keep it or sell it or turn it into something else. Nothing is ever thrown away.

"Perhaps they would throw us back to our worlds? I'm not scared of these Capitol people anyway. They can do no worse than making us kill each other."

"Can't they? There's always something worse. We just might not have thought of it yet. And they're nothing if not creative here."

That was what Alex had learned over the past year and a half. There was always a way for things to get worse. Always. This was just the first time he'd been unable to quickly find a way out of things. Before he'd always had someone or somewhere to try to escape to. Here he was alone and had no idea who he could possibly trust.

"We shouldn't be talking like this. They could be listening."

Eponine looks around. The nearest Capitol person is at least three shops away from them.

"Could they? There is nobody here - you shouldn't scare yourself!"

Ignorance really is bliss sometimes. Still, she casts about to change the subject.

"And in these times, in between... what are we supposed to do?"

The technological capabilities Alex had observed so far in the Capitol would have to wait for some other time, when Alex didn't feel so exposed. He had a feeling it would have to be a bit more extensive than simple 'they have flying cameras'.

"We should be preparing for the next Arena. But I think they want us to lose ourselves in the frivolities the Capitol offers us. Why else would they have given us a 'line of credit'? Especially when none of us are able to get jobs here."

"I do like it here... There is so much food - and free money. I do not trust that - nobody gives anything for free, but I can't help it. I have spent some."

Most of it. She's never had money before to do what she likes with and it did go to her head at first.

"I asked the lady if I could have a job. She told me to grow a back bone - but I wasn't scared. It is just better, I think... I would rather work here than fight."

"If I understand the way things work though, the only way to get out of fighting... is to win. Why would they give you a job here in the city when they can have you fighting in the Arena instead?"

Fighting, and dying over and over and over. That was the thing about the people in the Capitol that bothered him the most, their sick fascination with death.

"I suppose I just do not understand, M'sieur,"

She sighs.

"Why do they want us to keep dying? Does it not get boring?"

"Maybe it's like with the gladiators in Ancient Rome. They develop favorites from Arena to Arena. I know football would be terribly boring if there were new players every game."

Alex tried not to think about the fact he'd just compared the best sport in the world to his current situation.

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She has to pick-a-pocket or two -ooo, she has to pick-a-pocket or two.

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