thecapitol | The light that went by is that of a magic lantern

Who| Ringabel and OPEN
What| A man with no past (that he knows of) suddenly finds himself a Tribute in another world's future.
Where| District 7 Floor, The Tower, Around The Capitol
When| Near the end of the arena
Warnings/Notes| Ringabel can be somewhat inappropriate at times.

[District Seven]

Ringabel sits on the couch in the District Seven suite, leaning forward so that his elbows rest on his legs and his chin on his folded hands. These artificer's moving pictures are totally unlike anything he remembers from his days in Caldisla--not that he remember past those days--and in truth, this whole city is. Much of this building is constructed in substances Ringabel is unfamiliar with. None of the artifice seems to contain clockwork. Where in Luxendarc was this place?

These Games he was supposed to compete in were brutal, he could tell that much with this sequence of pictures showing the death of a child at the hands of an old man with some sort of hand-canon. Ringabel supposed the one saving grace was that the Games he was to be in was still a month. Still, it was evident that when that month was up he'd be in quite a pickle.

"Is a month's luxury truly worth this?" he muses out loud.

[All over Tribute Tower and the Capitol]

Watching the moving picture's carnage leaves a sour taste in Ringabel's mouth. When the moving pictures switch a pair of older dandies with elaborate coiffures talking together about the slaughter he'd previously witness, he gets up to leave District Seven's floor in order to see the rest of the Tribute's building and then, after that he supposes, the city as well. Perhaps he can procure a map that will show him what part of Luxendarc this Panem lies in.

Ringabel goes around the tower, up and down the elevator, poking his head onto every floor. He visits the roof and the training floor and the central commons and the bar. He has a smile and a bow for everyone he meets, for it doesn't hurt to be friendly. He has a special smile for the ladies.

Finally, however, he leaves the Tower for the bright maze of the city. If there is only a month until his uncertain doom, best to make the most of it.

He just wishes they would return his book.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Eh, it's better then a kick in the teeth. They'll do that too."

The gruff and gravely voice called from the kitchen area where Ruffnut was indulging in one of her new favorite treats. Cheesecake.

She had been suspicious of the idea of a cake made out of cheese but amazingly it was a wonderful creamy treat smothered in fruit.

Ruffnut had eaten about twelve small cakes and was working on her thirteenth, not even looking up at the boy who had spoken.

Despite his fresh face and youthful hairdo, Ringabel is no mere "boy." In fact, he is in his early twenties, not that he knows it. The voice which emerges from his mouth when he stands to bow to Ruffnut isn't a boy's voice either: "Indeed. I will be careful lest my face find their foot."

It took Ruffnut a moment to adjust to the guys way of speaking. He had such a youthful face but the voice was...weird. He sounded like the Capitolites she'd met so far. Stuffy.

"Uh...yeah exactly. They also like to shoot you with lightning if you cause trouble." She returned to her meal scooping an oversized bite into her mouth happily.

Ringabel nods knowledgeably. "The Thunder spell? I've heard of it. The magic shop in Caldisla sold the scroll, as a matter of fact." He frowns. "... it is just Thunder, right? Not Thundara or Thundaga?"

Ruffnut's head tilted slightly at his response. Were those even words?

"Um...it's not on a scroll it comes from these little guns they have. They point them at you and it zaps you and you're on the ground twitching and you can't move and it feels like your insides are cooking." She couldn't help but smile a bit at the memory.

Ringabel winces. "Thundara pistols," he mutters under his breath. "What a lovely place we've found outselves in." A little louder, "Have you seen them do it, Miss?"

That earned a deep hearty laugh from Ruffnut and she thumped her chest.

"They've done it to me four times. Five if you count the time I ran into that barrier that zapped me." she was far too proud of such repeated brutality to her person.

"Well," he says, after a moment "you seem none the worse for wear, and indeed it hasn't ruined your looks one bit. I suppose it's nothing that a few doses of potion can't cure." And she might have some kind of lightning resistance too.

Her pride only served to glow brighter as she drank in the compliments. It was so rare anyone saw her true potential (though the comment about her looks threw her off slightly. She was unused to anyone commenting on her looks favorably).

"Yeah that's the thing, they don't really give you potions unless they have to. They don't like us very much so if you screw up you get hurt pretty bad." Still the potions they did have were amazing.

Oh, her face was a bit long and features not as delicate as they could be, but her hair was long and golden (Ringabel did so like golden hair) and she was on the whole pleasant enough to look at, if nowhere near a true beauty. And besides, all women liked to be told they were pretty, didn't they?

"That is unfortunate," Ringabel muses. "I suppose we could purchase some in the town if we had any pg."

Ruffnut shook her head "Nah they use something called Assi." She mispronounced with a shrug. "They give tributes asses if you perform really well I guess." She only had ever had one really good arena so far so she wasn't particularly rolling in dough currently.

Ringabel chuckles. "Well, if that is so, I hope they're very firm." He winks at Ruffnut.

(Yes, Ringabel, make dubious jokes with teenage girls, that's a great way to act.)

Ruffnut pulled an incredulous face and then burst out laughing.

"Yeah I guess soWe wouldn't want any flabby money would we?"

Because if there's one thing a Viking likes, it's dubious jokes.

"Indeed not," Ringabel agrees. "I'd personally wish it to be of such quality that the coins just bounce off."

"Don't things usually bounce off butts?" Ruffnut took a moment to try and look at her own which involved alot of twisting and spinning.

"I've never met someone who's butt was so gross things stuck to it." She added with confusion clear in her voice.

Ringabel chuckles. "Oh, a coin will bounce off anyone's, true, but some will bounce much higher than others. I am always for the higher bounces."

Ringabel. Ringabel no.

Ruffnut really should stop engaging him but the subject was fascinating to her.

"So what makes for higher bounces?" She wondered out loud. "Squish? Or muscle? Or bone?" Her brother had a boney butt, a fact she was intimately aware of for how many times he had landed or sat on her during a fight. Her own bottom according to him was huge and was like having a Gronkle land on you. She usually punched him when he commented on her bottom.

"Oh, not bone, not at all," Ringabel hastens to qualify. "A bony buttocks is of absolutely no use for bouncing. And although squishy has its own charms, you are really looking for the firmest of bottoms for bouncability."

"Right, so muscle butt then. Thor's got a great muscle butt." Ruffnut sighed dreamily with a dazed look in her eyes and red in her cheeks.

"He could probably break some guys hand just by squeezing those cheeks together."

The light that went by is that of a magic lantern

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