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

"It's a real treat, isn't it?" Clint says dryly. "How long've you been here?"

"Not very, but at least I didn't show up in the middle of everything." And he glances over to the television screen, unable to help himself, though he just as quickly looks away. "Did anyone even tell you that you'd come back?"

He glances to the screen when Bruce does, but he's been avoiding watching the rest of the games as much as he could.

"Nope. I was pretty sure that was how I'd go out."

And wouldn't that have been embarrassing if anybody back home ever heard about it.

His smile is sarcastic and self-loathing as he avoids making eye contact with Clint. "Well, don't worry, we'll get to do it all again soon enough."

He pauses, and then. "I don't know if you noticed, after.... They managed to..."

It's ridiculous, to feel like he can't talk about this when he's already shown the entire world on camera, but he's immensely aware of how many people are in the room. "How much do you know about the super soldier project? The original."

"Awesome. I was just wondering when I'd be able to end up in the middle of nowhere with everybody trying to kill me again."

He shakes his head. "Not a whole lot. SHIELD kept that pretty need to know, and I didn't."

He smiles again, but he's clearly more concerned with figuring out how to convey this information without cluing everyone else in than in continuing the sarcastic banter. He toys with his glasses for a second, looking at them instead of anywhere else.

"The absolute basics are pretty well-known, just-- normal, scrawny kid, gets injected with some nationalism in a can, and you know the rest. The... trouble is, the people here found a way to... not entirely reverse it, in his case, but turn off everything that's particularly special."

And he pauses, trying to put as little emphasis on the next word as possible. "All of those sort of things are like that, here. Except for sometimes when they're just not, we've got no powered super soldiers running around."

Or their cheap derivatives.

Clint is getting really tired of feeling like somebody is watching him all the time. Especially seeing as how he's unfamiliar enough with the surveillance technology that he can't quite spot where it is.

"So back there with...the big guy. That was one of the not times?"

"Apparently." He looks up, looking past Clint into the crowds around them as he thinks outloud. "I don't know what exactly triggered it-- maybe the adrenaline from falling, but that's..."

He trails off-- it's hard enough putting how he normally feels about this into words; it's even worse here. "It doesn't work like that. It shouldn't. They shouldn't be able to do it at all, much less turn it on and off when they want it to, but it looks like that's what we're dealing with."

"Yeah, well," he glances around them just to see who might be looking, "seems to me like they can do a lot here they shouldn't be able to."

He laughs quietly to himself, sticking his hands in his pockets. "You're telling me."

He's been trying to ignore the television, but he's still managed to get glimpses of one more familiar face. "Did you see how Tony's still in there?"

Clint frowns as he glances over to the TV briefly. "Yeah. How the hell did he manage that? Of the four of us, he should've been the one to fall onto a spike in the first five minutes."

He laughs, and it actually sounds cheerful for a second. "There was the whole 'kidnapped in Afghanistan' thing that might have helped."

"Yeah, but he had tech in Afghanistan. Without the suit, what's he got going for him that I don't?"

"Not getting trapped in a hole with the other guy?"

And now it's Clint's turn to laugh. "Point."

He smiles too, but he looks back towards the television for a few seconds. "I don't know if I should root for him to hurry up and get back or to stick it out as long as possible just to show them."

"Well, I hear if you win, you're out of it for good. Might be the best he can hope for."

He hums noncommittally, glancing away and playing with his glasses again. "Maybe it's better to just not play along."

"For you and me, yeah. Stark might be better off out of there."

He laughs again, more bitter than ever. "I think you're really overestimating how well I did in there."

That was the whole point of it, right? If he could just figure out what happened to bring it back, there wouldn't be any problem-- but until then, he could have all the intentions in the world and they would mean nothing.

"No offense, doc, but I wasn't talking about how well you did, just how much of a beating you can take and walk away."

"It's kind of the 'walking away' part that's the problem."

"Not here, it seems," Clint says with a shrug.

He smiles like he disagrees, but there's no real point in pressing it.

"Well, either way, we're trapped in here while he's trapped in there."

"You think he stands a chance of making it?" Clint asks, glancing over at the TV again.

(no subject)

hasacondition - 2013-02-01 14:47 (UTC) - Expand