Albert Heinrich (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
silberfuchs) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-06-28 01:04 am
silberfuchs) wrote in thecapitol2014-06-28 01:04 am
Entry tags:
To the leader, the pariah, the victor, the messiah
Who| District 3 Tributes, Mentors, and anyone else who has cause to be there
What| Mingling in the wake of Cecil's news broadcast
Where| District 3 Suites common area
When| After Cecil's post, all evening
Warnings/Notes| This is a mingle log and will lend itself to threadhopping, which I hope is ok. Mention of depression. Discussion of mass murder and genocide is probably gonna turn up in here. Other warnings/notes as needed.
He's only been awake for a day.
A solid day of doing nothing but sleep and wallowing in a different illness altogether than had infected the Capitol. A solid day of that ugly beast Depression that, in the wake of murdering so many directly in the arena - two he didn't know, Enjolras, Hilda, Gott, he'd killed her... - sits heavy on his chest and doesn't allow him to do much of anything besides visit the lavatory. Frankly, he'd only turned on the news by accident; he'd been attempting to make the windows that overlooked the Capitol below tint darker and cast his entire room in shadow. It was on just in time to catch Cecil's smooth voice over pirated airwaves, a hard edge to his usually flightly and inane cadence.
District 3 was gone.
And dour as he is, suspicious thoughts weave into his mind. He doesn't believe for a moment that this is because of any plague, as bad as tuberculosis is. It couldn't have spread that fast, not with them quarantining themselves like that if Cecil is to be believed (and it's too serious not to believe.) No. This is another message. Because of Ian, because of his own post, because of Eponine's very public tantrum and Starkiller's blackout in the arena, both of which he's heard mention of by now as the tv switches from program to program in the ticking of minutes and his checks on his phone of old network logs. Jessica was made to behave this way before, why wouldn't they think it would work again?
All those people...
He feels sick, but he can't imagine he's the only one, not after this news.
Gathering his wits, Albert mechanically goes through a shower and dresses himself before stepping into the common area, wary of the Capitol microphones and cameras that may be recording them but needing to discuss, needing to find out where everyone else is both literally and emotionally, and needing to help as best he can. A help which starts with copious amounts of tea, not that he imagines it will be terribly calming in this situation, but any port in a storm.
---
When the other tributes come out to the common area, there is a large tray with a steaming pot of tea and mugs enough for everyone that lives in the D3 suites, including those Albert hasn't met personally. The German has placed himself in a chair and looks gaunt and sleepless despite having slept for quite some time, but his eyes are alert and he responds readily to anyone who comes to talk to him, though he's also ready to approach others if it looks like they're going to do something particularly inadvisable.
Of course, it's hard to tell with his stoic face that he may be thinking of the inadvisable himself.
What| Mingling in the wake of Cecil's news broadcast
Where| District 3 Suites common area
When| After Cecil's post, all evening
Warnings/Notes| This is a mingle log and will lend itself to threadhopping, which I hope is ok. Mention of depression. Discussion of mass murder and genocide is probably gonna turn up in here. Other warnings/notes as needed.
He's only been awake for a day.
A solid day of doing nothing but sleep and wallowing in a different illness altogether than had infected the Capitol. A solid day of that ugly beast Depression that, in the wake of murdering so many directly in the arena - two he didn't know, Enjolras, Hilda, Gott, he'd killed her... - sits heavy on his chest and doesn't allow him to do much of anything besides visit the lavatory. Frankly, he'd only turned on the news by accident; he'd been attempting to make the windows that overlooked the Capitol below tint darker and cast his entire room in shadow. It was on just in time to catch Cecil's smooth voice over pirated airwaves, a hard edge to his usually flightly and inane cadence.
District 3 was gone.
And dour as he is, suspicious thoughts weave into his mind. He doesn't believe for a moment that this is because of any plague, as bad as tuberculosis is. It couldn't have spread that fast, not with them quarantining themselves like that if Cecil is to be believed (and it's too serious not to believe.) No. This is another message. Because of Ian, because of his own post, because of Eponine's very public tantrum and Starkiller's blackout in the arena, both of which he's heard mention of by now as the tv switches from program to program in the ticking of minutes and his checks on his phone of old network logs. Jessica was made to behave this way before, why wouldn't they think it would work again?
All those people...
He feels sick, but he can't imagine he's the only one, not after this news.
Gathering his wits, Albert mechanically goes through a shower and dresses himself before stepping into the common area, wary of the Capitol microphones and cameras that may be recording them but needing to discuss, needing to find out where everyone else is both literally and emotionally, and needing to help as best he can. A help which starts with copious amounts of tea, not that he imagines it will be terribly calming in this situation, but any port in a storm.
---
When the other tributes come out to the common area, there is a large tray with a steaming pot of tea and mugs enough for everyone that lives in the D3 suites, including those Albert hasn't met personally. The German has placed himself in a chair and looks gaunt and sleepless despite having slept for quite some time, but his eyes are alert and he responds readily to anyone who comes to talk to him, though he's also ready to approach others if it looks like they're going to do something particularly inadvisable.
Of course, it's hard to tell with his stoic face that he may be thinking of the inadvisable himself.
no subject
"He's not a monster, and I doubt that he was trying to hurt you! He collects bodies. Sometimes it's heads. I don't know why, but he likes to keep them around. Maybe he thought you would want them, since he was your friend, I don't know! It's weird, but it's not malicious. It's no less weird than burying the body in a box in a hole and putting a heavy rock over it, like you humans. And you don't even have to worry about your dead rising up to kill you during the day."
She's getting unreasonably irritated over this, and she doesn't even know why. Maybe it's because of her visions--because she still hasn't checked on him to confirm her fears. "Besides! Fraysong is not the reason that your Ian didn't come back. And he's not the only person to ever disappear. You don't have any right to decide what he deserves."
no subject
Eponine loses her temper much more rapidly than Terezi, spitting at her as hard as she can.
"It is NOT well. Ian was supposed to win and return safe as a victor. And your stupid man kils him so brutally. I could be sick. He should be killed, the Initiate, and not returned. I ttll you now, I shan't let him live comfortably."
no subject
"It's a good thing, then, that you don't get to decide who stays and who goes!" Terezi snaps, more than a little annoyed. "People die in those arenas. We all do, and you can't blame someone for that. If you want to blame someone for your dumb Ian disappearing, then you already know where to point that finger. You can bet that they're not staying anywhere in this tower."
And through all of this, she has to wonder where Fraysong is. She hasn't had a chance to check on him yet or to find out if he's alright. The Helmsman is gone, so she already knows that it's probably bad. Her tone softens just a little, but she's no less serious. "He's one of the best friends that I've ever had. I wouldn't have made it this far if it wasn't for him. So if you mess with him, I'm going to mess with you. And you're going to regret it."
no subject
"You know, it might be the Capitol's fault, but if Ian had won, they couldn't have killed him. He would have been safe - my Ian would be here! I shan't forgive him. I don't care what you do to me, but I shan't let him away with it. He took my friend away from me and it is NOT fair.
no subject
"Your Ian wasn't going to win, no matter who killed him. And he certainly wasn't going to be safe, that's just laughable. Being a Victor doesn't mean that he gets to live. If they don't want you here, you're gone. Tribute, Mentor, Victor, any number of stupid humans that have suddenly gone missing and no one notices! It doesn't matter who you are. Winning wouldn't have saved him any more than dying did. They didn't want him here. So he's not here, and there's nothing that anyone could have done to change that."