thecapitol | out of the frying pan, into the fire

Who| Belle and you!!
What| Our newest Disney princess is trying to adjust to her new surroundings.
Where| here and there. D6 suites | around the capitol (shopping district & coffee shop)
When| backdated to 7/31
Warnings/Notes| none!

[Distric 6 suites]

Once again Belle found herself from a situation where she was being held as a prisoner in a wondrous, enchanted world. There were doors that opened automatically when you approached, strange looking pipes that could transport you to other floor, small switches on the wall that could turn the light on and off. What else can you call those things but sorcery? However, this time she was demanded to do more than just dine with her captors. Just the idea of what she was asked-- no, told to do was crushing and distracting enough for her not to pay much attention to all wonders around her. She locked the door right after reaching her chambers and went to bed, crying silent tears as she didn't want anyone possible near her to find about her misery (and from what Belle understood, there was always someone near and watching) until she fell asleep.

By the morning Belle was already feeling much better. Sure, her situation hadn't improved a bit, but she also knew from experience that she couldn't just spent her entire time while hiding and sulking in her room. Besides, her curiosity towards the Capitol had awoken within her. So, without bothering to look at the new clothes her 'stylist' had provided her, Belle carefully left her room.

At first she was surprised how... clean and spacious the lounge was with its white walls and few odd looking decorations on tables. Second thing that caught her eye was the large mirror-looking thing placed on the wall. What made it especially strange to her was that its surface was all black, barely reflecting anything at all.

What a strange object, she thought to herself and cracked a small smile as she turned away to examine the rest of the room.

[The streets of the Capitol]

There was no end to her astonishment or for her curiosity as she walked down the very lively streets of Capitol. Everything she had seen in the Tribute Tower just moments ago seemed so plain and calm compared to the colorful and overly flamboyant designs of the shopping districts. Even the people looked stranger than she could have ever imagined, with their weird clothes and bright colored skins and hairs. Even Belle, who was refined lady, found it hard not to stop to take a
second look at some things she passed. Now she truly felt like she was in another world.

She, herself, earned a few odd looks and whispers from the locals for still wearing her red dress, which she had arrived with. But right now Belle couldn't really care a less about what these people thought of her as she moved gracefully among the crowd.

After spending a hour or two while walking around the streets without a real goal on her mind, Belle decided to take a break and visit a small coffee shop near her. She was, after all, french and true friend to all kinds of coffees.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

So, she'd have to spent the rest of her life in constant fear and confusion, while preparing to get slaughtered in front of everyone? That didn't sound anything like 'fairly normal' life to her. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. The urge to burst into tears, yell and protest only grew stronger, but she knew better than to lash out her feeling on Stephen-- who was really trying to help her here.

"And if I win? Will I'll be go back to home, then?" She asks hopefully.

This was a part of the conversation Stephen particularly hated. "...no," he said. "The reward for winning is never having to enter the Arena again. You become a Mentor -- it's their job to coach the Tributes of their District on how to win, and to talk to potential sponsors during each Arena."

There was no way out.

With an audible sigh, she drops her head to her hands, letting the news sink in. She has to think about this for a minute.

She had already mentally prepared for never being able to see her beloved father again, but at least back then she had been in a same world with him. This deal felt far more permanent and certain than her previous situation. Also, this meant that she'd never see her dear friends Lumiere, Mrs. Potts, Cogsworth again. Or Beast.

Then, after a brief moment she collects herself and looks up to Stephen, more confidently than before.

"Who are Sponsors? What can they do?"

"Everyone in Panem will be watching your performance in the Arena," Stephen explains. "If they like you, or bet on you, or just want to help, they'll buy things to send to you in the Arena. The right sponsor gift can mean the difference between life and death for a Tribute." He's nothing but matter-of-fact about it. After all, he's been doing this for years.

"Bet on me? Like a horse?" She raises a brow disapprovingly before shaking her head. So, it seemed like that, in the end, fighting in the arenas were only small part of a much bigger game. Well, too bad that she has never been quite good at the popularity contests.

"What do I have to do? I suppose that in a place like this being just 'yourself' isn't going to win you any points?" She still refused to play the games. But while she refused to harm anyone, she still wanted to stay alive.

"That depends," Stephen replies, "on how interesting your self is. So, why don't you start by telling me a little about it?"

He leans back in the chair and crosses one leg over the other, resting the ankle on the knee, ready to listen.

"It doesn't have to be personal. Just start with some things that make you unique."

"Well, back in my world I live in a small village with my father, where people are mostly nice and they live a quiet life as each day follows another. I spent most of my days while helping my father at his workshop, he's a great inventor you see, or then while taking care of the farm."

There was a small hint of melancholy in her voice voice when she spoke of her hometown. While she did not think of ill or held any hard feelings towards the other villagers, it still somewhat saddened and hurt her to think about the time at her village. After all, she had never heard anyone to describe her as kindly as 'unique.' The words she kept hearing the people gossip were 'funny' or 'odd.'

"It's a nice life, I suppose." She sighs before continuing, still not sure what all she should tell him. "Not one for me, though. It might sound a quite funny and rather peculiar but I've always wanted to travel, to see world. Experience an adventure in a real life instead of just reading about it."

out of the frying pan, into the fire

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