OPEN

[bindsthedead]

Who| Sabriel and you
What| Sabriel's back in the Capitol after her first death. There's a lot to catch up on.
Where| D10 suites, training center, and various shops and restaurants around the Capitol
When| After Sabriel dies in the arena
Warnings/Notes| Mention of death, avoxing

Option A [The common areas of the 10th floor were where Sabriel took her breakfast most of the time, and where she sits on the couch, looking over the news about strange diseases and the fate of District 3 and Cecil Palmer as she drinks a cup of tea and tries not to throw up, or start shouting in rage.]

Option B

[Sabriel spends some time at the training center practicing with a sword, doing her best to hack several dummies to pieces, and then skewering each piece.

But she spends far more time at the survival skills stations, and learning about spears and knives and a variety of improvised blunt weapons. She speaks to other tributes on occasion, her demeanor seems oddly intense.]

Option C

[She needs sponsors, she needs information, and she wants to get out of the tower. This is how Sabriel winds up eating dinner at a variety of restaurants and shops, examining the wares, eating, and talking to fans. If there's one thing thirteen years of etiquette training have given her, it's the ability to smile and act like she's having a wonderful time when she really isn't. Still, whenever she spots a fellow tribute, she can't help but wander over to talk to them.]

[Closed to Hans]

[The Speakeasy is probably the best place for this, Sabriel realizes. It's noisy enough that they probably won't be overheard, and people there seem more interested in their drinks than visiting tributes. So she sends the invitation handwritten on fine stationary, containing a time, location, pointed allusion to Starkiller, and signed with a flourish.

She arrives early and sits down at a table, drinking some kind of dark red fruit juice as she waits for a mentor she's heard about, but never met. Hopefully, she'll be able to explain what Starkiller did, and why she didn't consider his death to be completely in vain.]

Comments

[carnagecarnival]

[Well. If that don't just goddamn make his day, and make him like her all significant, he doesn't know what up and could. It breaks some of the solemnity of the events current, and what can't be broken can be wrapped up clean and neat in the guise of being called "preacher". It lifts him up from within, visibly, to be referred as such.

His lips pull into a smirk, first to her, then to his own work.]

It's a good hobby. USEFUL IN MANY WAYS. Survival, expression, communication, reaching understanding, grasping a unity, balance, finding beauty and sharing such... IT PLEASES THE MESSIAHS. And it pleases me.

[He turns to her again, with his paint coated fingers.]

DO YOU TAKE PART IN THE HOLIEST MOTHERFUCKING ARTS, SISTER?

[bindsthedead]

In music, as much as I can- singing, bells... other instruments as well. [She's managed to acquire several as gifts from fans, and many of her invitations to parties come with a request to play at them.]

I was meaning to ask you- can you tell me more about your messiahs, now that we're out of the arena?

[carnagecarnival]

[His brows go up. His face goes surprised. And then he grins huge. In this very moment, this very second, she may be his favourite person.]

Why, sister. HE WOULD DO SO GLADLY AND WITH GREAT MOTHERFUCKING PLEASURE! Tell him, is there anything what all you wish to know particular? OR SHALL HE ENLIGHTEN IN HIS OWN EASING TO THE HOLY?

[bindsthedead]

[The grin takes her by surprise, but she nods.]

Tell me what you think is most important about them.

[carnagecarnival]

Important? SISTER, WHERE CAN A MOTHERFUCKER EVEN UP AND START ALL UPON THE IMPORTANCE OF THE HOLY TWO. The Messiahs, Sister, are beginnings and ends of all things. THEY ARE CREATION AND DESTRUCTION. They are life and death. DARK AND LIGHT. They are. SO. Many. MOTHERFUCKING. Things.

[He gestures as he speaks. His hands punctuate the things he says and his arms spread as a natural preacher's would.]

THEY ARE FEAR AS YOU KNOW. But more so, they are mirth. THEY REPRESENT A CELBRATION, SISTER, A CELEBRATION OF ALL MOTHERFUCKING THINGS. All motherfucking things what he has just told of. THEY REPRESENT THE FINDING AND EMBRACING OF BEAUTY IN EACH PART. Recognizing that each is part of the grand cycle and so as much important as the other. WE INDIGOS, MYSELF AN INDIGO, WE ARE THEIR CHOSEN CHILDREN. But under the Messiahs, their is beauty in all and so, he believes as in part of the deepest most hidden scriptures. AS IS EVEN TREASONOUS. The Messiahs have plans for all colors.

[He whispers that last part conspiratorially, thrilled.]

IN THE OLDEST SCRIPTURES OF OLD, THERE IS TELL, WE SHALL ALL GO TO OUR AFTERS EQUAL. The faithful of course are picked out from the sinners, without saying. BUT THE CARNIVAL DOES NO BAR DOOR FOR NO PALTRY REASONING. So long as mirth is had and the sacred upheld. AS LONG AS THE MESSIAHS ARE GIVEN THEIR PRAISE AND DUE AND HEARING, SO THEY WILL GIVE THE GLORIES OF SHANGRI-LA. Paradise... like what cannot be reached in no mortal realm. A PLACE OF ETERNAL CELEBRATION. A place of good.

THEY ARE MIRACLES, AND THE MAKERS OF MIRACLES. They bring joy and laughter to the Carnival. THEY GIVE IT SOUL. And they give us place for the resting of our souls. THEY GIVE US PURPOSE. They give us reason to be. THEY ARE ALL POWERFUL, ALL SEEING. They are. SO. Motherfucking. BEAUTIFUL.

But they are gods, remember. THEY ARE ABOVE US. They have no motherfucking reason why all to look the fuck down on the rabble. IT IS IN THEIR RIGHT, TO NOT BEHOLD THE WRETCHED BELOW. They need not bless, nor guide. THEY NEED NOT SHOW US THE PATHS WHAT WE CANNOT SEE, NOR LET US HEAR DIRECTION FROM THEIR VOICES TWO. They need not to give us family, pity, hate, friends, miracles. THEY NEED GIVE NO MOTHERFUCKING PARADISE, THEY NEED GIVE NO MOTHER FUCKING THING WHATSOEVER.

...But they do. YOU ARE NEVER ALONE, WITH THE MESSIAHS AT YOUR SIDE. You are never entirely without.

[His eyes are closed now. Both hands are pressed to the center of his chest, like he can feel his gods' touch within him. His expression is strange; serene, but intense, calm, but emotional. When he speaks, it's with a breathlessness.]

I CANNOT TELL YOU WHICH PART OF IS OF MOST IMPORTANCE. That is like to ask your favourite singular anything of everything at once. I CANNOT TAKE THE MESSIAHS APART. I am their most devoted servant and couldn't possibly make to choose.