Ringabel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dingadong) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-10-06 04:08 am
dingadong) wrote in thecapitol2014-10-06 04:08 am
Entry tags:
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.
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.
Re: D7
"That is unfortunate," Ringabel muses. "I suppose we could purchase some in the town if we had any pg."
Re: D7
Re: D7
(Yes, Ringabel, make dubious jokes with teenage girls, that's a great way to act.)
Re: D7
"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.
Re: D7
Re: D7
"I've never met someone who's butt was so gross things stuck to it." She added with confusion clear in her voice.
Re: D7
Ringabel. Ringabel no.
Re: D7
"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.
Re: D7
Re: D7
"He could probably break some guys hand just by squeezing those cheeks together."