thecapitol | Boom boom boom

Entry tags:

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.

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He looked bored when she approached - mostly because he was bored - his eyes flicking up to her curiously. For the life of him, Draco couldn't fathom what she wanted, when she'd been so into killing him before. This was an abrupt change.

Still, he made no move against her.

"And here, I thought you'd have been happy someone was defending your honour," he replied dryly, seething internally against Howard. If he'd just stayed in that crevasse, he could have avoided all this.

"I do not need anyone to defend my honour. I can look after myself just fine, Sir."

Eponine bit her lip; Draco was barely looking at her; of course he was cross. Somehow, Howard had made Draco's death her fault.

"What he did to you was worse than what you did to me. And I will shout at him, Monsieur. He has no right to defend me against you. Especially in such a way... I am sorry, you know?"

She was still distinctly uncomfortable near Draco and she looked as if she was ready to bolt - where she'd run to is another matter. Her forehead was creased in frown lines and her top lip was quirked as she tried to think what to say. Finally, she moved closer.
"I really am sorry, you know? Even you did not deserve that."

"'Even I'," Draco echoed, some of his annoyance coming through. He'd gone back through the recordings of the last Arena, acquainted himself with what he'd done; he couldn't stand the pits in his memory. "At least I made your death quick. He left me there to bleed out. He couldn't even have the decency to do it properly."

And it hurt like hell, was his main point. "You'd do well to find better friends, Mademoiselle. I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him."

"Exactly so, M'sieur. It is awful that he left you to die, and I will shout at him for it. "

She smiled though, at Draco's last comment, revealing rotting teeth.

"He is not my friend. He is just a boy who gives me food because he feels sorry for me. Not a friend."

It was a lie; Howard was the closest thing Eponine had ever had to a friend. But she didn't trust Draco enough to reveal her dependance on Howard.

"We just pretend for the cameras. We hope that they will like friendship."

And no one else had offered theirs.

He did his best to tamp down the inherent disgust he felt when she smiled like that. Surely, there could have been something the Capitol could do for that; there was no way she'd get any sponsors looking as tragic as she did. But he didn't believe that tale for a second, partly because he simply didn't trust Eponine. There had to be a reason she was here, and it wasn't just because she thought Howard was in the wrong. It was impossible.

"You really shouldn't be saying that here, you know. You're still being watched," he pointed out with a bored sneer.

Perhaps that's how they were promoting her? A little wildcat? A gamine to be sorry for?
She flinches at Draco's tone.

"Watched? How? I see nothing. We are not killing each other here; what does it matter what we say here?"

"You really think that?" He asked, still sceptical, still disdainful of this girl who was before him. "They have cameras everywhere. They listen to everything we do, everything we say. Don't know why. I assume we're amusing."

"I am NOT amusing. I do not want to be amusing."

Eponine sits down, cross legged, at Draco's feet.

"I didn't realise that..." She leans her head back and closes her eyes. "That I did not know. And I have been complaining... I don't want them to kill me really."

"You don't get a choice in the matter," Draco told her harshly, leaning over to he could continue the conversation without breaking the eye contact that it was only polite to hold, before giving her a look that suggested she had best watch her mouth in the future.

"I suppose it's best you know now, and not when they take you in for insubordination."

"What does that mean? I am not scared of them. I am not scared of anything. But I do not want to die either. Life is good here when they leave us alone. Do you not think, Monsieur?"

She ignores Draco's harsh tone; it's one she's all too used to. Her own is quite light. She's forcing herself to be jovial now she's aware she's being watched.

The cant of his head at her comment suggested he thought she was rather dumb, that her sudden act probably wasn't going to fool anyone. But who was he to say as much?

"We were brought here for one purpose," Draco told her, voice softening just slightly. Now it leaned more into the realm of too sweet to mean anything good. "But yes, I'll agree that life's decent enough. It could be far worse."

Too sweet. Far too sweet. Montparnasse sweet talked the ladies whose throats he slit.

"I am NOT killing anybody. And I'm not scared." Act out of the window, Eponine glares up at Draco, tilting her head so she could see him.

"I do like all of the food they give us... and the clothes. Such lovely things."

"Fine. Have it your way. But that much denial that you're afraid only tells me one thing."

He fluttered one hand dismissively, unperturbed as he stared back down at her. "You have to work for those things, though. They're not just going to keep giving them to you if you don't do anything."

She shook her head. "You're wrong, Sir. I am not scared."

Eponine sighed and looked down. "I stripped, did I not? I am in love with Howard, am I not? Is that enough for some bread?"

"And yet, you've said that four times already."

He shrugged, regarding her still, "Probably. For the time being. But there's only so long you can do that for before it gets bloody well boring. Me, I'm already bored by the little act."

"That is because you are not nice. You are like my 'Parnasse, Sir. He would sooner hit me than hug me. Sooner lead me off down an alley to lift my skirt than take me home to a bed. Of course you would be bored. I think you are like him. You do not love."

There. She'd said it. All of her resentment came bubbling to the fore and she let rip. this was her version of letting rip.
And whilst she knew nothing really of Draco, she recognised the cold exterior from her husband-of-sorts, and believed Draco thus, to not care about women or love. Women were for his pleasure and for nothing else, as far as Eponine was concerned. Of course he would be bored of herself and Howard.

Thin blond brows lifted into neat arches as he stared at her, completely disbelieving. "So tell me this, Mademoiselle - how is it you know so much about me?" His tone was low, threatening. He merely leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring down his nose at her. "You've spoken to me three times. Once, I don't remember. The second, you told me about how mean I was. This time, you're still telling me how mean I am. I notice that you haven't once made so much as an attempt to get to know me; you merely jump to a conclusion.

"I don't think there's anything of you to hug, just for the record. I don't like you very much; I think you're a whiny little bitch who're out of her mind terrified of this place, and just can't admit it to herself. I haven't seen you do one single thing in this place that wasn't akin to begging."

Eponine looked as if she had been smacked across the face when Draco said that. She jerked away from the chair immediatly, and stood, glaring defiantky down at Draco.

"So that is what you think of me, Monsieur? That I deserve to be hit? That it is my place to be hit and beg and to be made to things I do not want to do? Well, perhaps it is. Perhaps I will die an unloved harlot, murdered over a sous or a franc."

It probably sounded grim, coming from a sixteen year old's mouth - but Eponine is always practical.

"I do not need to talk to you, Monsieur, to know you. I know lots of things, and I know about the likes of you. Your type are not nice. I can tell by your accent, how you act, that you are rich. You do not even pretend to be poor. And I know like so many rich, if we were in Paris now, you would ride past me in the snow and splatter me with sludge as I sit on the wet pavement. You would close your eyes to my brother and my sister. You would not see us starving. Or you would, and you would not care. I might be a beggar, sir, but I am not you, and that is something."

"I didn't say you deserved to be hit. Don't put words in my mouth," he sneered, unbothered by the fact that she had risen to her feet. If he did the same, he would be able to stare back down at her; for now, he'd give her the supposed higher ground.

She was sort of right, though. He was rich, he wasn't nice. He wouldn't see her starving, nor would he care. But she still didn't know him, and that was enough reason for him to deny it.

"At least I died decently."

At that, Eponine bent down and went to hit Draco as hard as she could.
She was aiming for his cheek.

"I am a gat, Monsieur, and a gamine and a thief and a - well. I have been arrested and locked up before today. And I have done bad things. But what I did in the arena was NOT bad. Howard is alive because of me."

She HAD to believe that, for her own sake. She couldn't believe that her nakedness was completely pointless. She spat , again aiming at Draco.

"This is what I think of you, Monsieur."

He hadn't seen the blow coming; she hit him easily. It stung on his cheek, the mark bright red against pale skin as he found himself suddenly staring somewhere else in the room, off to the side instead of at her. People were looking at them, and he couldn't bring himself to give a damn.

It took the rest of her speech before he looked back at her, sneer firmly in place on his face. He'd barely opened his mouth to reply when she was spitting at him; it hit the collar of his shirt, and he pushed himself up from the couch, no longer amused with her antics.

Draco made the most of his height, stepping into Eponine's personal space without any regard for it, a murderous glint to his eyes and his voice low, "Does it look like I give a fuck what you think of me? Get away from me. And if you so much as try that again, you're going to regret it. You'll rue the day you were born, I promise you that."

He was irate, his hands shaking a little; he wanted to escape, but the Peacekeepers (clearly not doing their job, for the record) were blocking the way. He was stuck, but that didn't mean he had to deal with her abuse. He reached out, shoving her roughly aside, and stormed across the room, fuming enough that no one with half a brain would go anywhere near him in the foreseeable future.

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Boom boom boom

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Draco's mean, and I apologise for that. >_>

Is quite ok! Epo's a whine. I'm sorry!

/squishes her <3

LOW BLOW!

WHOOPS.