Mass murder was the last straw [OPEN]

[formersurgeon]

Who| Joan Watson and OPEN
What| Joan is talking to friends, and to people she hasn't met yet, looking for allies to help her bring down the Capitol.
Where| The Speakeasy, the Training Center, the park
When| After the revelation of District 3's destruction and Penny's predictable lies.
Warnings/Notes| If you would like Joan to approach your character in one of these places, tag in with what your character is doing and I'll have her initiate contact.


I. The Speakeasy

"The Speakeasy's theirs."

That's what Wyatt had told her when they had only moments to speak freely to each other while the Capitol was unable to look in on their thoughts. So when Joan goes looking for potential allies, she starts there. The dive is, as always, dark and loud, perfect for hiding lips and faces and drowning words. She goes to the bar, orders what passes for beer in Panem, and carries to a booth in the corner where she can see the whole room, as well as the door. She looks for people she knows, people she recognizes.

II. The Training Center

Joan has met a number of people in the training center. It's one place where she knows she can find Tributes without going floor by floor, which would be both time consuming and suspicious.

She walks into the gymnasium and surveys the stations. If she sees no one, she makes her way to the shelter-making station, and looks over the different supplies.

III. The park

Joan isn't exactly looking for anyone in the park. Instead, she's looking (without looking like she's looking) for spots that might be sufficiently free of cameras and microphones to make good meeting place for sensitive conversation.

Of course, that doesn't mean she isn't also aware of the people around her. Sitting on benches, passing her by...following her...

Comments

[swedeandlow]

He had stopped, and waited, as soon as he hit the glade - fully aware of where and how many security cameras there were here.

And how many there weren't.

"Joan Watson," he said as she approached him. "My name is Detective Kurt Wallander." He flashed her his badge.

[formersurgeon]

Now that was interesting. She didn't know that the Peacekeepers had detectives. Her contact with them had been pretty much of the strong-arm variety.

"Pleased to meet you, Detective Wallander. How can I help you?"

[swedeandlow]

He slipped the badge away, pulling himself up as much as possible, which was difficult when one was basically a shambles with an ever growing pot belly.

"You have a surprising number of friends who like to make very - ah -" He'd been about to say 'fiery', stopped himself, almost said 'inflammatory', stopped himself again, nearly said 'heated', and then - glowing red with embarrassment - finally settled on, "- impassioned statements on the network."

[formersurgeon]

Ah. Was this a guilt by association thing? She had been waiting for the peacekeepers to come after John and herself to grill them about Sherlock's subversion of the monitoring system and his horrific exit. Was that what was going on?

She fought the urge to cross her arms, forcing her haptic language to remain calm.

"I've lost a surprising number of friends that way, yes."

[swedeandlow]

"One. You've lost one." It's as much as he can give her - that Cecil isn't dead - that he's still alive. (As much as that could possibly mean.)

"But I would think it would be in both our interests to make sure you don't lose any more that way, don't you?"

[formersurgeon]

She paused, considering what he was saying, considering the circumstances.

"I think we can stop talking around things. I'm not going to repeat anything from this conversation. And I don't think you would have pulled me aside like this if you intended to interrogate me or arrest me. What are you asking me to do? Keep my mouth shut? Convince my friends to keep their mouths shut?"

[swedeandlow]

"You're right, I'd much prefer not to have to arrest anyone." There was always the chance that Snow had his own personal cameras, just to keep the peacekeepers in line, so he wasn't about to stop talking in riddles just yet.

"Both, I hope, if you can manage it. Though more the latter. As far as I can tell, you're smart enough to keep quiet on your own."

[formersurgeon]

"Most of the time," she said honestly. "I don't always make the right choices."

She pressed her lips for a moment.

"You should know, though," she said slowly. "Neither of those friends consulted me before they went public with their dissatisfaction. I suspect that the people who would do that sort of thing are the people who would be the least likely to listen to anybody. Even me."

[swedeandlow]

"Well, in this, at least try, because it's not only your life on the line," Kurt said a little sternly. It wasn't a threat. It was an honest warning.

"I know that Cecil went to you, in the days before his speech. And though Sherlock blacked out the tower, I can only imagine that he went to you. And John. Watsons, after all. You're lucky I'm the only one on the force who had any interest in the old stories." He stopped, having been crueler than he meant, and he frowned. "I merely meant, I doubt he did it with no warning. But I know grief well enough to let it lie, so I made sure we didn't press you. Cecil, however, is very much alive, and just did his best to start a civil war. So I'd like to know what the two of you spoke about."

[formersurgeon]

She stepped closer, keeping her eyes on his.

"I appreciate that you're trying to help me. But you're a Peacekeeper. If we talked about anything? Why would I tell you?"

[swedeandlow]

"Because Cecil did something incredibly well meaning and incredibly stupid," Kurt said, his voice a low hiss. He was taking a huge risk here, and there was no way he wanted that sentence to go on record.

"And all things considered I would like to keep well-meaning people from suffering the consequences of ridiculously stupid actions."

[formersurgeon]

"Again, I appreciate that you're trying to help." She'd lowered her voice, almost to a whisper, and it was calm and even. "But I don't know you. I worked with the police back home. You could be sincere, or this could be a sting. I wouldn't be able to tell until after I've given you anything incriminating, and I was or wasn't led off in chains to have my tongue ripped out."

She shook her head, took a step back.

"I can't trust you. I'm sorry."