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
"Pariah," she corrects with a bit of amusement. "And you're not the only one. He was pissed off at me for a couple months, too. We weren't speaking at all--except for the times that we did and it blew up into a big fight every time." She's still not over that. She might have agreed to move past it, but it's a little hard to forgive and forget with her. It's not something she's accustomed to doing.
"Granted I did slit his new friend's throat in the arena, but... I guess I didn't think our friendship was that easily replaceable." Her amusement fades at that. It still hurts a little, her trust in him still hasn't recovered completely, and maybe that's why it's been so difficult to let it go. Or maybe she just hates the idea that she could be replaceable. Who knows.
She's a little slower to start talking again, but it probably needs to be said. Dave has been nothing but honest with her, and she should do the same for him.
"Sorry. For making you feel that way." She of all people should know how much it sucks. "I didn't know how to... go back to just being friends. I still don't. Everything feels like too much or too little." She hopes that he knows what she means. Maybe he's having the same problem? Finding that balance again that's friends but not matesprits without having to append every action with a "not romantically" just to make sure they're on the same page. That balance where they just instinctively know what the other means.
"I can talk to Karkat for you. I can't promise he'll listen to me, but..." She shrugs, mimicking his defensive strategy. She's a master of topic changing today.
no subject
He starts off amused, but his gut twists a little at that comment. He's noticed it with so many people, he'll have a normal conversation and suddenly they're talking about slitting throats and murdering their fathers. It's a little uncomfortable, but he tries not to judge, he just acts curious.
"Oh yeah? Whose his friend?" Probably someone lame. Much lamer than Dave. Like most people are. He shrugs as she continues, waving her off. "Don't lose any sleep over it. I figured myself out in the end anyway, I'm all large with the making friends thing, I think I earned myself a badge for it too." He knows that's a little dismissive, so he tries to be sincere. "I'd like it if we were friends again. When you're ready. I know I've had more time to process it, but I missed you. God, I even missed Karkat. How fucking sad am I, right?" The corner of his lip twitches upward in a small smile. "Sure. Just don't tell him I love him, seems like it sends him flying into intense-nasty rages."
no subject
"But I would like it if we were friends, too," Terezi says, a little soft for her usual demeanor. She picks up the slack as she continues, adding: "I mean, do you know how lame practically everyone around here is? There is a significant lack of cool people to hang out with. A deficit of swag, you might say. A famine of moxie." He probably gets the point.
"Don't worry about Karkat's new friend. He's..." Terezi frowns, scrunching her mouth up to one side in that way that she does. "Okay, he's kind of dumb sometimes, but I can't actually trash talk him, since I'm supposed to be auspisticing for him. It's a... troll thing." One of those quadrant things that he probably doesn't want to hear about, so she trails off a little awkwardly. "Either way, not as cool as you."
no subject
"We have our work cut out for us if we want to fix that." He forces a stern tone. "We'll have to roll up our sleeves and get deep into the depths of this nasty trash influx. Balls deep." He adjusts his shades, as if parodying those rebellious TV cops with their witty one liners.
"Everything is a troll thing." He says, not without a hint of bitterness. "I've been away too long, it's time we got the gang together. Karkats a tough nut to crack, but I have faith in his ability to get his nose all up in our business."