To the leader, the pariah, the victor, the messiah

[silberfuchs]

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.

Comments

[silberfuchs]

He nods, but there's a cryptic look in his eyes. They may be powerless right now, but if the government keeps pushing, eventually they'll push back, maybe in the name of the innocent masses squashed under the Capitol's heel, maybe in the name of being ripped from their own homes and made to repeatedly kill and die, but whatever the reason a reckoning is coming.

"That's by design, I'm sure, but they don't seem to know much about us overall other than what we end up displaying in the arena."

[splendid_roman]

"No," he agreed, slowly, considering the reasons for that. "I think people here are quite insular. They'd have to be - if they learnt other ways to live they might decide they're not too keen on the government and the arenas and having us here."

[silberfuchs]

"Which is exactly what they should be doing." He sighs and takes another pull. he has no doubt they'll eventually rise up, but it's possible it could be too little too late at this rate. Or maybe it already is, if something like the Games is in place, but if they had to recently switch to offworld tributes...

"Trouble is brewing. Despite the supposed purpose for the Games, they use off-worlders to fight now, which takes pressure off the Districts themselves and have to resort to mass murder when anything happens. What I want to know is why they kept District 3 a secret, or tried to. The only thing that makes sense is that they're hiding something else, something bigger and more dangerous to the current government."

[splendid_roman]

"Perhaps you're right," Ian said thoughtfully. "A whole district-worth of people would have been noticed sooner or later." If the government had wanted to make an example of them it would have been all over the news.

"If there is anything bigger and more dangerous, this isn't really the place to discuss it." Not that Ian could guess what it might be, but talking about it in a public place was bound to cause trouble.

[silberfuchs]

He shrugs setting the bottle down within Ian's easy reach. "It's just a theory."

Ian's right, and this is Albert's way of changing the subject. He jumps back to a previous one. "In any case, we'll be in a tight spot come next arena unless we can get a hold of sponsors not tied to the District."

[splendid_roman]

"It is possible to survive without sponsors." He looked at the bottle, considered it and then decided to finish his tea. "Not easy, but possible. Especially if you kill someone who has some useful stuff you can take."

[silberfuchs]

He gives Ian a look that suggests the latter isn't in his cards. Despite his behavior in this last arena, the bloodthirsty beast they'd made him to be with the arena's food, Albert's not in the habit of outright murder when he's in control of his faculties. Self defense, fine, but attacking outright is something he has to be driven to by more than competition.

"It's difficult to maintain any level of morality here, isn't it," he asks quietly, possibly rhetorically, as he crushes his cigarette into his empty tea mug for lack of an ashtray.

[splendid_roman]

Ian nodded and stared at the dregs of his tea left in the mug. "It's not always easy to see what's wrong with killing when they'll just come back to life in a better place than the arena."

[silberfuchs]

"After what's happened, I don't really consider this place 'better'. Slower at killing us, perhaps, but not 'better,'"

[splendid_roman]

Ian shrugged. "In that respect it's better. Dying slower gives you more chance to do something about it."

[silberfuchs]

"Hmm. Perhaps." He's run out of things to say though, and will to argue. With the general mood of the suite and his only having been back from the particularly harrowing arena for a few days, Albert's fairly done with all of it for the time being.

He takes a long drink even knowing it won't help, but maybe it can deaden things for awhile. "I hope you can hold onto that hopeful outlook, Ian."

[splendid_roman]

Ian snorted. "I hope so too." He wasn't really up for arguing either, or even a discussion - it wasn't quite the right time or the right mood for it and he sighed.

"I think I need some air," he decided. It was felt stuffy in here. "I'll see you around." Since the suite clearly wasn't going anywhere, despite the lack of district 3 to represent, they were bound to run into each other in the future.

[silberfuchs]

All Ian receives in turn is a nod from Albert, who leans a little further on the counter and drains the flask dry, wondering if there really is hope for any of them.