thecapitol | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who| Sabriel and you
What| Sabriel starts exploring the tower
Where| District 10, the training area, and the commons
When| After Sabriel's arrival
Warnings/Notes| Possible discussion of zombies and death.

(Option A: Initial arrival, Floor 10, Common Area and Roof)

They had taken away her bells and sword- well, it had been Touchstone's sword, but she'd been carrying it at the time. And then they had explained why they'd brought her here, and it had taken every last ounce of self control and memories of ettiquete classes with Miss Prionte to stop her from screaming at them and trying to blast them with a Charter Spell.

Instead, she'd given them a sharp, brittle smile and explained in a tone normally reserved for addressing lesser domestic servants. They hadn't been impressed, and so Sabriel found herself in a strange building, fear and shock and absolute, seething rage all shifting around inside her head.

Not willing to sit around and sulk, Sabriel explored the premises as best she could. She watched the peacekeepers and tributes and avoxes, quickly realized that the technology here was utterly beyond anything in Ancelstierre, and silently vowed to get to the bottom of what was going on. Then, she decided it was time to start asking questions.

"Excuse me, where is this place? I'm afraid I don't completely understand why I've been brought here." Sabriel's face and voice might be carefully neutral, but her hands were clenched into fists.

(Option B: Training Center)

Sabriel had entered the training center out of curiosity, and had stayed to investigate further.

She'd spent some time practicing with a training sword, getting a grasp of the weight and feel of the weapon- not exactly what she was used to, but it was easy enough to adjust to- but wound up spending most of her time watching other tributes and spending time at stations that taught about skills that weren't directly related to combat- recognizing plants, knot-tying and the like.

Occasionally, she'd approach another tribute or mentor- mostly asking about if one skill or another would actually be useful in the arena, and what she should watch out for.

(Option C: Common Area, a few days later)

They'd given her the bandolier back, but the bells inside were not her own. Sabriel frowned, running her fingers over the handles. The materials were right, but these were powerless copies- there was no magic, Charter or Free, within them.

Carefully, she set each of the bells on the table, in order from smallest to largest. Then she began to ring them.

At first, it was simple peals, just to test the sound. Then she upped the tempo, sounding two bells at once and sometimes tossing them into the air and catching them by the handle, just to get the right sound.

It was strangely soothing, and Sabriel felt some of the tension that had built up over the past few days fade as she focused only on the bells- hitting just the right note, creating just the right melodies and harmonies, and not thinking about death, or the arenas, or anything but the sound.

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Cecil was glad to be out and about again. The week before had been... harrowing, in many ways, but life went on, didn't it? Stress was, in the end, just another sign that one was alive and engaging with a complex and unpredictable world, and it was no excuse to shirk one's duties as a broadcast journalist. And so, he'd come here to the Tribute Center - to remind himself what he was here for, who he was here for, and how fortunate he was to be... well, where he was.

He sat at a table in the common area, microphone in his pocket and a cup of coffee from a nearby cafe in front of him, and looked fondly into and over and through the crowd. He knew so many more faces than he once had, Tributes and Mentors alike.

...Not this one, though. Not the face of the woman walking toward him with such purpose. By her question, he thinks, she must be a Tribute - a new Tribute. A new face, a new voice, to learn.

"Well!" he said, with a broad and welcoming grin. "This place is the Capitol Coffee Company! Among the less mediocre of the local coffeeshops, though perhaps not my first choice, most days-- even if they do make a mean gingerbread latte." This with a knowing lift of his eyebrows-- Sabriel was free to consider that a recommendation. He spoke as though to an audience larger than just her, in tones too measured, too carefully enunciated, to be quite natural. "However, due to its convenient location and the patience of the baristas for translating the requests of those whose home worlds do not share our own definition of coffee, it is rather popular with Tributes-- of whom, I assume, you are one."

Sabriel hesitated, staring at Cecil for a long moment.

"Yes," she said, "I am a tribute, and my name is Sabriel- although I have to admit, I actually prefer tea."

Thirteen years of etiquette training had, if nothing else, taught Sabriel how to smile sweetly and speak politely even when she didn't feel like it. She suspected that this would be just as useful in Panem as knowing how to swing a sword.

"You're... Are you an Escort, or one of the stylists?"

Sabriel. Cecil liked the sound of it-- it was a graceful name. A name that was pleasant to speak aloud. His smile widened.

"Neither!" he said brightly, and put out his hand to shake. "Sorry, I should have introduced myself-- my name is Cecil Palmer, and I am the host of the local community radio show Welcome to Panem." It was spoken proudly, like an announcement-- clearly, this was the aspect of himself he considered most important to any conversation. "And that's exactly what I'm here to do-- to welcome our new Tributes to our beautiful country of Panem, and to this, our glorious Capitol."

He let that hang triumphant in the air between them, and concluded: "So-- welcome!"

Sabriel was familiar with radio. She'd listened to news reports and dramas with her friends back at Wyverly, so she smiled softly as she said, "My classmates and I loved to listen to the radio at school- I'll make sure to listen to your broadcast." Mostly to see if there was any information to be had.

"Panem is certainly... lovely," Sabriel said with only a slight twitch in the corner of her eye, "Although there are some things that seem strange to me- your views on death for example." It took every last bit of self control for her to make it sound like an innocent observation on cultural differences, rather than an angry condemnation.

Cecil's eyes widened with interest. Death! Now there was something most Tributes were reluctant to bring up. ...For obvious reasons. He very much wanted to know what she found strange about Panem's views on death.

...But first things first. He could hardly continue a conversation with someone so polite while he was sitting and she was standing - what kind of an impression would that make?

"--Listen," he said, "If you're not too busy-- I am here, and you are here, and the Capitol Coffee Company is here..." He paused. "Well. I could list things that are here all day. Other Tributes and other citizens are here, for example, and all of the things they are carrying with them-- their belongings and their thoughts are here, as are their fears, their regrets, and the many small intersections at which they will meet, or not meet. All the meaning that their meetings could have had is here, where the opportunity is missed; but that opportunity is here, as well. ...Also spiders! Probably a lot of spiders."

This didn't appear to have knocked his train of thought off-course at all. He smiled up at Sabriel. "...However, most important to us is that we are here, and have not missed our opportunity to meet; so! Would you like to join me? Because I would just love to hear what you think about our views on death, and your coffee-- or tea-- is totally on me."

Sabriel nodded along, and sat down across from Cecil.

"Well, aside from training, I don't have much to do yet- and I can't say no to free tea- although I actually haven't spotted any spiders her," Following his train of thought was... strange, but Sabriel decided she could handle it.

"As for my views on death... Well, I'm a necromancer. Death was something I had to become familiar with at a very young age."

"I see," Cecil breathed. His attention stayed fixed on Sabriel, even as he waved a hand absently in the direction of a waiter. Necromancer was a word barely familiar to him - he knew the meaning of it, but distantly, like he'd read it somewhere before, or seen it in an old film. What the practical application of the word was, he could not have said.

"Now, I know many people who have died," he said, matter-of-factly. "In fact, I know many people who have died more than once! ...As you soon will, as well." What else did they keep Tributes for these days, except to die? "But I have never known any of them to describe themselves as familiar with death. In fact, I have never known death to be something with which one could be familiar."

Feel free to elaborate, his expression said.

"Well, ever since I could remember, I've been able to feel when living things die," Sabriel explained, "And sense... other things related to Death. Though while I've been walking in and out of Death since I was twelve... I've never actually died, so that will be a new experience."

Sabriel wasn't sure if she'd simply gone numb from the shock, or was simply a better liar than she'd realized. She'd managed to say the last sentence with only a faint hint fear, rage, and sarcasm.

"Walking in and out of Death," Cecil repeated. What an astounding combination of words. He waited for the waiter to set a hot cup of tea between them before he went on - he had no intention of letting them be interrupted.

"You know," he said, folding his hands on the table, "I have this good friend who's a scientist. Now, I don't mean to draw inaccurate comparisons between science and necromancy, but he, for example, was very excited, from a scientific standpoint, about the technological advances of our world, many of which do not yet exist in his." It wasn't that he didn't catch her sarcasm, or her fear - he was genuinely trying to be reassuring, here. "So, for a necromancer, I imagine actually dying would be quite a fascinating experience! A familiarity with death yet unachieved!"

"Well, I have felt other people's deaths," Sabriel admitted with a smile that was actually more of a grimace, "But it should be an... interesting experience. Particularly if I have access to my abilities when it happens." She didn't have any delusions of winning on the first round. In later arenas... perhaps. Although given that winning wouldn't make them return her to her world, perhaps her energy would be better spent elsewhere.

"I'd be very interested to learn how they're reviving people, for example."

Edited 2014-06-04 02:18 (UTC)

"Ah, I'm afraid that information is... not readily available to the public." The phrasing was delicate. He had a feeling that that information is jealously guarded and those who openly seek it face retribution of a kind that it is forbidden to discuss too publicly might not go over well, either with Sabriel or their friendly local surveillance devices.

"--But! I'm sure our hardworking scientists would be fascinated to learn more about the methods of post-mortem rehabilitation in use by the necromancers of your homeland." Because that was what necromancers did, right? Bring people back to life?

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