thecapitol | Boom boom boom

Who| ALL people who call the Tribute center home, and anyone who might have been there on business.
What| Lock down
Where| Around the Capitol, and in the Tribute Center.
When| Feel free to tag in if you died any time in the first 3 weeks. (So if you die tomorrow, you can feel free to back tag in, if you like)
Warnings/Notes| Use this post both for threads before, around the city, and after the Peacekeepers and Avoxes gather everyone. More information about the state of the city after this will come tomorrow in the Deathroll. If your tribute character is out and about, they should expect Peacekeepers to escort them back within 15-20 minutes (and you can feel free to handwave the peacekeepers)

The people lurking around the docks, wearing plain clothes, rough clothes, might stand out among the Capitol Citizens if 'District chic' wasn't a style that came and went on a regular basis. As it was, they barely stood out, people trying too hard to look like they didn't belong and that they did, at the same time.

Sorta like everyone else around them. It was hard to act suspicious in the Capitol.

It was a bit strange, people getting on the Shore to Shore boat dressed like that. Not normally what anyone would consider club wear, but 'normal' was not highly regarded around these parts.

However, it wasn't long after the boat had left the dock that it made it's grand exit.

In an explosion that sent a fireball high into the night sky, lighting up the bay, and sending high waves lapping at the shore, the boat was obliterated. Rescue operation were swift, but there just wasn't much left to rescue.

Siren's filled the city, automated voices urging people from every street corner to return home, lock the doors, stay inside. And for the Tributes wandering the city, it was more then automated urging. Those in the Tribute training center were gather up by Avoxes, and brought down to the common room, the elevator refusing to work for anyone who wasn't in the process of gathering up Tributes, Mentors, Stylist...anyone lingering in the building.

Those Tributes not already at home found themselves flanked by Peacekeepers and escorted back, deposited in the same common room, and told to wait.

Eventually, hours later, everyone was cleared and the elevator opened, although the front doors still refused to allow anyone out without a special clearance no one was being offered. A recorded voice told them emergency alert instructions would be available for them in the morning. And then their doors locked behind them for the night.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"No, we shouldn't, but that's because these are really bad people," he says, firmly and careful, wanting her to understand-- he doesn't want her to ever forget that, none of them could ever forget that. No matter what people did to help them, they were still kidnapping people to fight death matches-- even if they brought them back to life afterwards. "It can be very dangerous if they think you're making trouble. They have jails here, too."

He's not sure if they do-- or, not the ball-and-chain type, anyway.

"And trying to get everyone to fight them will make them think we're making trouble."

"Me? No - I do not ask the people to fight. Who am I to ask that? I do not know how to do such a thing. I wonder, though, if these men are so bad, why everyone goes along? I am not scared."

Foolhardy, though. She IS foolhardy. Eponine spits again, but she laughs.

"Monsieur, you are okay though? Your death did not scare you?"

Eponine shakes her head and lowers her voice to a whisper, leaning in close to Bruce.
"When we are let out of here, I am running. I am not doing it again. My Papa hid in the sewers in France - and I will do the same here. But I need help to get the grate up. Will you help me? You can come if you'll help. And if you are not scared of rats."

"Sometimes being scared isn't a bad thing," is all he says, because it's easier than pretending he knows what everyone's rationale behind it is; he only knows his own, and he's pretty sure it doesn't match up.

"I've got a lot bigger things to be scared of," he admits, and doesn't look over at the television screen. He does, however, check over her shoulder, if not his; turning around again would be suspicious, and there's not much he can do about it if someone is listening in. He doesn't want anything bad to happen to her, not when she's just a little girl and clearly doesn't get the full extent of the problem-- but staying here is just setting her up for more bad things to happen, isn't it?

"...I'll take a look with you." Most likely scenario is they go and see it doesn't work; best case... maybe they find a way out of here. He's not that optimistic, though. "Rats aren't really big enough."

"I do not like them though. One day, I woke up in a ditch, and the rat, he was right here, Monsieur, nibbling just below my eye. I screamed of course, and it ran. It would have been better to keep still and let Papa catch it."
It would have saved her poor boxed ears too. But what's the use of crying over the past? On the contrary, Eponine looks a bit more positive.

"It is a start, the sewers. I am surprised nobody has tried... But so many enjoy the kill."
Her eyes go to the TV and she watches Howard beat Draco bloody.
"It is evil what they make us do. They are evil people. And, well, we cannot change that. Should we just play - let them dress me instead of fighting Valeria? Let them touch me and give me presents? It is no different than France that way. It is the ladies I feel sorry for. How are they to cope on nothing if they have had everything?"

He frowns, the (unlicensed medical) doctor part of him taking over for a second. Rats chewing on faces... "And you were in Paris?"

He shifts, trying to figure out how to put it gently. "It might not be that no one's tried before. Maybe they weren't able to. We can still try, just to check," he adds quickly.

He sees where her eyes go and moves to catch her attention, trying to ignore the shows himself. "We can change it, though. If you don't fight, like you did-- they're watching us for entertainment, right? So if we just try to be boring, so they get bored... it's better than fighting and giving them what they want, right?"

"Yes, M'sieur. St Michel in Paris. You know it?" She looks up, hope for her home being recognised clear in her eyes.

"It is worth it to try. I cannot stand everyone looking at me all the time. I wanted that in Paris... but now? No. It is not good. I wanted to be looked at for being a lady, not a whore."

"I thought that... but you know what Howard said? He says if you are boring, they kill you for good. And Beetee told me that they chopped the tongue of a girl from my district - well, it is not really mine - I have never seen it, but you know what I mean? - because she was bad. I truly don't want to fight. But I do not want to die. Stripping has saved me, Monsieur, but now people think of me as a whore. I did not even think... I just wanted to die, and thought Howard may as well have my clothes for the warmth."

He clearly doesn't want to disappoint her, but he doesn't have that much to say about it. "Sorry, I was only there for a couple days."

But if that's what Howard said, then it was definitely worth looking into-- he made a mental note to ask around a little, to find out what else was happening. And the tongue... A lightbulb clicks on in his head, back to the room full of people reacting to something he didn't understand back then, not before he found out that all the servants here don't have tongues. "Was that--"

But he'd look into that later; there's no point in pressing her about that, when she probably doesn't know more and it's already bad enough. But this is sort of an uncomfortable conversation to breech. "Um, I don't know if people are really... thinking about you in that way. Did someone say that?"

Boom boom boom

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WHOOPS. I'M SORRY!!!

it's fine, I'm also sorry!