Sabriel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bindsthedead) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-05-10 10:42 am
bindsthedead) wrote in thecapitol2014-05-10 10:42 am
Entry tags:
(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.
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.
no subject
He wouldn't admit that to anyone, though.
"You wouldn't make a bad partner," he said, giving a small nod. "Obviously we can't plan anything concrete, given the fact we know nothing of what the arena will be like. But... if we do cross paths, I wouldn't object to having you on my side."
no subject
"Then let's hope we survive long enough to meet each other," She paused, looking out over the training stations, "Which non-combat skill would you consider most valuable in the arena?"
no subject
He gave the question a moment of thought. "I would say the ability to hide would be your best skill," he said. "I'm an aggressive fighter, but I also know that sometimes your best strategy is secrecy. Unfortunately, I... didn't have that luxury much last arena." His brows furrowed a little angrily. "You're free to watch my arena tape- it should be obvious once you do what I mean."
Starkiller had been forced to wear slippers in the shape of Darth Vader. And they breathed with every step he took. It had made sneaking around difficult, and had eventually compromised his own sanity.
"Other than that? Know what's edible. We were in a building last time," he said, "But if we're anywhere outside, then you have to know what you can eat in order to survive. You can't exactly pack a lunch, after all."
no subject
"I've seen some of the reruns from the Arena," The attitude of the commentary had left her feeling furious, but she supposed she might learn something valuable from watching a few more, "I suppose I ought to watch a few more."
no subject
Starkiller hadn't been a fan at first of watching the previous arena, but after a while he's come to realize it was necessary, so he gave her a nod. If reluctantly. "If it doesn't help, then it won't exactly hurt either. Unless you have a weak stomach for that kind of thing, anyway. But I doubt that."
no subject