thecapitol | (no subject)

Who: Calico and OPEN
Where: Various locations around the Capitol, including District 8 suites and the park
What: Cal is back
When: Any time you fancy!
Warnings: Possible mentions of her family's death, but that's about it.

OPTION 1: D8 SUITES
Calico has never been the most reserved of Victors, and her arrival at the Suites is no less retiring than she herself. She arrives with much grunting and groaning and swearing as she lugs her humongous trunk from the elevator to the suite, to her room. It would be much easier if the damn thing had wheels - but then, where would be the fun in that. Once in the open doorway of her room, Cal heaves it onto its side, letting it fall with a THUD!; loud enough to rattle nearby doors. And then she begins to unpack.

First comes a book - it's quite simple looking, covered in the coarse, drab fabric of her district. But this is about the only thing Cal puts away, pushing it beneath her pillow. Next come her finished creations - elaborate dresses made of ruffles and feathers and sequins and appliqué - garments that don't even seem to make sense before she throws them over one of the many mannequins stuck in her room, arranging the folds just so. More clothes spill over the side, but Cal's lost interest in hanging up, and is instead unpacking hatboxes, filled with everything from a turban decorated with bedazzled fruits to a top hat. Following those comes rolls and rolls of beautiful fabrics and spools and spools of cottons and silk in a rainbow of colours. These she heaps in the middle of the common room. She flops down on the sofa, surfacing the mess of sequins and material spilling from her room.

Time for a good brew. She'll tidy up later.

OPTION 2: IN THE PARK

Calico absolutely loves the park. She loves just sitting on the grass, smelling that fresh air that is so lacking in District 8. And after an entire two years of being ostracised there, breathing the sweet air of the Capitol tastes almost as good as it did back when she was first brought to play in her Games.

She lies on a sequinned picnic blanket in the middle of one of the manicured lawns, her distinctive fiery hair and interesting outfit making her stand out just a little. She lies, her head propped in one hand, idly doodling clothes inspired by the flowers she sees in the beds around her.

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Cassius strolls leisurely through the park, his hand stuffed in his pockets as he wanders aimlessly down the paths, enjoying one of his rare moments off duty. It might be a waste of time, but when was the last time he had time to waste? Maybe he'll grab a bite to eat, or drop in on-

Calico. He freezes in place the moment he sees her (and how could he not? The headdress made her stick out, even amongst the rest of the Capitol's avant-garde fashion), completely immobilized by her presence. It's been years since he's seen her, and he doubts she's interested in a reunion, not after he dragged her off to Peacekeeper headquarters. For a brief moment he's hopeful enough to think that he can simply walk away without her noticing him, but it's futile. He's been staring to too long and he knows it. But what the hell is he supposed to say?! He knows what Penny and her favorites got up to, and it's not the sort of thing a person can just shrug off!

"Ah..." He clears his throat, and says, "Nice, erm, sketches."

He feels stupid the moment the words leave his mouth. But if there's anything Cassius Jones is good at, it's feeling like an idiot.

Edited 2014-09-14 21:50 (UTC)

"What? Here to arrest me, love." Cal pushes herself into a sitting position so that she can see Cassius properly. He might be trying to push through the bad memories, but Calico certainly isn't going to let it go. She hadn't been able to react at the time, and though she's certainly nowhere near as angry as she had been at the time, those continuous nightmares are a reminder of that day when her friend turned against her, and stood by whilst she was tortured and her family executed.

For now, she keeps her face carefully neutral. "Draggin' me off to - who is it now? I do believe your friend met a sticky end, din't she? What were it in the end?"

If he could read her mind, he would have said that he had no choice. Best case scenario, he gets carried off in her place. Worst case, it's his family instead, dragged away to pay their debts and his. Besides, she should have known better, running her mouth in a situation like that. He wasn't the one that put a gun against her head and forced her to say those things, was he?

(No, he just pointed it at her back, all the way to headquarters. He tried his best to forget that moment. Sometimes he succeeded.)

But he can't read her mind. All he can do is read her face and her tone, and hope to diffuse the situation as best he can, dim as those prospects may be. He gulps, and says, "The ground. Or a crematorium, perhaps - wasn't exactly invited to the funeral, myself. But, I'm not here on business, I swear it."

He punctuates this by holding up his hands. See? He's completely harmless.

"Bitch deserved it," Calico murmurs. She puts her pencil down carefully in the centre of her book and closed it shut.

"So what do you want, if you're not here to arrest me? Friendly catch up, is it? How's the family, and all that? But no - no, that can't be it. I suppose you already know how my lot are? And surely you're not asking me to go clubbing with you - are you high and mighty Peacekeepers even allowed to have fun?"

Cal's not at all prepared to give Cassius an easy time. She wants Cassius to experience even just a fraction of the pain and anger and resentment, and yes, betrayal as well, that she has had to deal with all by herself. She doesn't know what to do. She doesn't even know how she feels about him. Is it really his fault? Or was she stupid to speak out?

With a sigh, she pats the floor beside her, indicating that he ought to sit. She makes a show of it, properly stretching her arm and leaning into it, sighing noisily all the while. She is doing her best to be deliberately unfriendly.

He hears the comment about Penny, but he bites his tongue before he can say anything. It's better for the both of them to ignore it. Instead, he listens as she rants on, the lines around his mouth going tight when she mentions her family. It's an accident, they said. It's an accident, he reminds himself, ignoring the way his muscles grow tense. Just another unfortunate incident in a long line of accidents and impossible coincidences, nothing more.

Cassius is about to walk off when she finishes, expecting her to tell him to buzz off. Instead, she pats the ground, signalling him to stay. Why? Hell if he knows. He hesitates for a moment, before slowly sitting down.

"It was bad timing," he says, his tone quiet, but firm. A beat later, he adds, "Coming 'round here, I mean."

The clarification was necessary. After all, bad timing pretty defined both their lives and their relationship ever since he had returned.

Cal had already snorted by the time he clarified what he wanted.

"There are too bloody many of them in this damn place." She said. She shook her head. "Oh, to hell with it." She muttered. Was there any point in staying mad with Cassius? He hadn't made her speak out. He hadn't executed her family. She doubted he had dropped the bomb or however they destroyed the factory. Was it his fault? Did it even matter? She needed someone on her side. And maybe Cassius, in the long run, would be able to give her 'official' information, keep her in the loop as it were.

"So, what? Have you been promoted now? You doin' alright for yourself? I feel well out of it, shut up in District Eight."

Wait, what? She was angry at him, furious even, just a moment ago. But now she wants to make small talk? He stares at her for a moment, his eyes wide, before he just shakes his head. Rage is no match for loneliness, he supposes. There's no point in burning all your bridges; that's something he knows all too well, and something she must have realized herself.

"None since I was posted here," he says, answering the first question. "I've been doing alright for myself, though - I'm not starving or naked, and I've got a solid roof over my head. That's all I can ask for, really."

It's far from all he wants, but it's more than he had out in District 12. But, that train of thought reminds him of how lonely it can be out in the districts, and how hard it can be to readjust once one returns. Taking a deep breath, he looks back at Calico, and asks, "What about you? How've you been holding up?"

There's a flash of anger in her eyes again at that question. How has she been holding up. But she swallows it down. She laughs, though there's a bitterness souring the sound.

"Drab old District, eh? None of these." She strokes one of the furry things hanging from her headdress. "I would have stuck out like a sore thumb if I'd worn anything more wild than my namesake." And whilst Calico was perfectly okay with, and actually welcomes, sticking out for her fashion in the Capitol, it was another thing entirely in a District where half of the population couldn't quite meet her eyes.

"I reckon I've knackered my eyes sewing these damn sequins. But they're worth it. You should see some of those dresses I've made. Better than anything that Jolie could whip up."

He flinches at the laugh, realizing that once again, he's said the wrong thing at the wrong time. But he listens, nodding along as she talks about clothes and fashion. It's an easy topic, he realizes, feeling no small amount of relief. A safe topic, something they can talk about without reopening old wounds.

"Well," he says, "Maybe I will. I'm not much for parties anymore, but you've never limited yourself to a ballroom, have you?"

He ends that statement with a smile, hoping to smooth things over, if only a little bit.

"Inviting yourself back already?" Cal smirks. "Naughty, naughty. What would the head Peacekeeper say? Having fun? With someone as disgraceful as me, no less? You'd be packed off to a District before you could even breathe!"

"Hey now," he says, holding his hands up. "I'll have you know that they've greatly loosened their regulations on fun. If they do exile me, it will be to the corner, so I can think about what a naughty boy I've been."