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
"It's not very ashen, I think, but I don't think it'll harm it," she waves her hand, "You did well enough with Initiate and I? Even if it's not as vitriolic. Perhaps get them to talk, with you there to mediate? So nothing goes too far."
The space between her eyebrows wrinkle, "I wouldn't ask Signless to draw with him though. He's not...great at that. Honestly, I think you're pushing yourself to make this perfect serendipity. It won't last forever, if it goes well. They won't need you to be their third if they can get past things."
no subject
"It's not serendipity, but I have to do this. I have to put everything I have into it. It's not perfect, but they're counting on me to help them. I have to do this right."
She can't emphasize that enough. She doesn't want this to fail. She doesn't want this to be for nothing. She doesn't want to disappoint them.
"I was going to sit them down together. Just to talk, after I managed to figure out what went on between them. I wanted to... have their moirails there with them. Just in case." But that's not going to happen anymore.
no subject
She allows that, then shifts her head to look Terezi in the eye.
"But you're allowed to make mistakes. You're dealing with a more complicated and weighty issue than normal plain hatred. And if your plan isn't going to work--make a new one. I don't think I'd have been a good person to have there--Karkat even less. He doesn't..."
She doesn't finish the sentence. Karkat's feelings on that matter are perfectly evident.
"Just try it without the moirails?
no subject
"When they're ready." And just as importantly: when she's ready.
no subject