thecapitol | (no subject)

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WHO| Don&Plutarch, Riddick&Lilium, Max&Elias, and Anna&Nathaniel
WHAT| Scoping them out for rebellion potential.
WHERE| Various locations
WHEN| About a week before the new arena.
WARNINGS/NOTES| This is our first time doing this. Forgive any mistakes. Also this is not a promise you will get into the Rebellion. And if you fail, it is not a promise you will never get in. There will be a thread for each of the pairing, set up by the NPC half (it may take a day or two for your NPC to get up a thread)

Whispers of a rebellion could be heard, even if you didn't know where to look. Many lived blissfully in ignorance, of course. But it didn't take a lot to realize that, when you killed people's children, they tended not to be happy with you.

But whispers of a rebellion and an actual rebellion were very different things.

Especially one happening right here, in the middle of the city. That was unheard of.

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"Those would be the ones. Amazing, just amazing, the similarities between the different realities, isn't it? Particularly in light of the obvious differences." He didn't quite gesture to Don himself, but it was there all the same, clear as day.

Don was used to sticking out like a sore thumb, actually. Though, the fact that the doors survived suddenly made Donatello start to think. He frowned the more he thought.

"...But...with all due respect, Plutatch. How did the President get the doors? Didn't the catastrophe...?"

"Now that is a mystery," he said just as their drinks arrived, and sipped his with a small smile. "You'd have to ask President Snow, I suppose. Though I think it was probably one of his predecessors. Like the Capitol, most of the the President's Mansion comes from before the Dark Days."

"The Dark Days..." Don looked down at his tea. "That was the rebellion, right?"

Surely it wasn't a crime to ask.

"Indeed. I'm sure you've heard the general shape of that... unpleasantness." He gave a little fastidious shake of his head.

"But I didn't ask you here today to discuss old politics. I just want to... make contact, so to speak. Learn a little more about yourself."

"Uh, well..." Don blinked. "...I, uh, I'm not sure there's much to tell about me. Well, not much that would be interesting..."

Or potentially not subversive. His dealings with the Triceratons alone were probably an executable offense here.

"What about your time here? How are you liking the Capitol?" he asked, and there was a subtle sharpening in that gaze.

That...wasn't exactly comfortable. Donatello could tell that he was being scrutinized. Curse that stare. It's much like Master Splinter's. It compels him to be truthful.

...Almost. One could be truthful and deceitful at the same time, as a means of self-preservation. He learned that from him and his brothers' various attempts to go topside as children. Then again, it didn't work well because it was Master Splinter.

"It's...different." The turtle bit his lip. "It does reminds me of a few places I've visited back home. But even in those places...um..."

How did one phrase it.

"...The mainstay of entertainment wasn't quite as...mastered as it is here."

Plutarch's mouth tightened, the corners twitching as he controlled a smile. "Thank you for trying to make that sound like a compliment," he said, nearly laughing.

"I take it that's something you'd rather see change."

Oh geez. What does he even do. The Head Gamemakers is completely bemused by him and--

He let out his breath as he idly turned the handle on his teacup.

"...If...I may be honest..." After a moment, Don quietly nodded. "...Yes, I would. It's...it's just a stopgap, just like back home. I'm sure it keeps some people afraid and unwilling to stand up some of the time. I mean...shell, I'm scared just telling you, knowing what can happen to me. But..."

"I'm supposed to protect you. I'm supposed to-"
"Hey you. We've got next time."

"...that doesn't mean I shouldn't do something when I see an injustice. That's what my father taught me."

...Well, he was probably dead now. But, what exactly what was he going to do?

Edited 2013-01-11 20:53 (UTC)

But Plutarch only listened, nodding as he spoke. When a waiter entered the room, he waved him off without looking away from Don.

"Seventy-five years is a long time for something to be considered a stop-gap, don't you think? At this point, even the changes we've made lately have been... well, let us just say that there was a great deal of work done to keep them from being destabilizing. To do away with the system entirely seems all but impossible."

"...I don't believe that. I don't think anything is impossible." Don shook his head. Since he was already going to probably executed in the morning, may as well. "The Triceratons had their form of government for centuries, but it was changed for the better eventually. It just takes the right people to effect that change..."

"The right people?" Plutarch repeated, prompting, with a tiny gesture towards Donatello.

Don opened his mouth to respond with 'Well, yes, and the means to effect the change as well as an impetus and drive', but his words died when he saw that tiny gesture. So, for a moment, there was something akin to squeaking. Thankfully, Donatello remembered his manners soon enough, and quickly closed his mouth.

The right people.

The right people.

The right--

"...Yes...a little bit like in the Games." he managed to croak out, beginning to understand fully why he was summoned here. "Change needs allies both from without and within."

Edited 2013-01-11 21:55 (UTC)

He made a considering sound, picking up his drink again to sip it, thoughtful.

"Your alliances are important to you, aren't they? We've been trying to work that sense into the new formula of the Games."

"...They are." Slowly, Don took a sip of his own drink. His mouth, however, remained dry. "A lot of the Tributes....I want to do what I can for them."

"Just them?"

Such a simple, complicated question.

"...No, not just them. I want to help everyone who needs help."

Aah, it was. ~~Are you sure, Plutarch, that your real name isn't Splinter and you're not just a rodent in a human suit?~~

"But...I'm only one guy. There's only so much I can do in my position, and the only thing I can do is at least get others out of danger, or die repeatedly trying. And...there is still so much I don't know about Panem. Knowledge is power, and in that particular field, when it comes to this world and everything I'd need to know about it, well...I've got a bit of a handicap there. I only really know the Treaty of Treason, and how the Games work."

~~No to the first clause, but the second may in fact be true.~~

"That's true. There's been no concerted effort to educate you tributes on why things are the way they are. And perhaps I should change that. Make sure you all know what you need to know."

~~...Oh, a relative then?~~

"That..." Despite himself, Don's eyes lit up, ever so slightly. He enjoyed learning, after all. "I would appreciate that."

"Then let me put you in touch with a few people," he said, entirely conversational. "Drop your name in a few ears. You might find their acquaintance educational."

"...Thank you." Done smiles gratefully. "I'd appreciate that."

Though of course, deep down, he was worried again. His own experience with rebellion was...not the best. Mainly because somehow, anytime he or his brothers got involved in one, things just went to shell for whatever reason.

But on the other hand. He wanted to know. He wanted to know the truth.

He'd just have to cross the bridges when he got there, wouldn't he?

He nodded, just a small, reflective nod, the gesture one that seemed to indicate something had been settled, and to his own satisfaction. Very good.

"Consider it done." He checked his watch, a gleaming gold piece. When he ran his thumb across the dial, there was, just briefly, a little shimmering bird illuminated above it, sketched on the air in light. So very briefly.

"I am afraid I'm out of time, however. If you'd like to remain, anything you order is on me. I'm sure you're reluctant to spend your winnings," he added, with the slightest pause before the last word. "I'm told they're working on specialty menus themed for each of you here, you really ought to let them practice."

"Thank you, sir."

If Plutarch was looking - perhaps he was - he'd notice Donatello's eyes staring at the watch. Of course, the moment is brief, and by the time Plutarch is fully looking back up at the turtle, Don's eyes have averted back up to the Gamemakers' face.

"...Oh...thank you, I..." Don was quite surprised at this gesture. "That's very kind of you. Though...I'm betting that there's probably a lot of turtle soup involved."

A bird. He saw the outline of a bird. He was sure of it. But it didn't look like one he'd seen before. Not entirely.

"That's a nice watch, by the way."

He paused in standing, hands on the table, and for a moment looked towards the door where the waiter had come and gone. "... How gruesome. Oh, but thank you. I had it made after the 74th, to remind myself of that... very exciting victory."

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