thecapitol | OPEN Valentine's Day Plot

OPEN Valentine's Day Plot

WHO | Everyone
WHAT | Baron sends Valentine's Day gifts to Tribute Tower.
WHEN | Valentine's Day!
WHERE | Tribute Tower
WARNINGS / NOTES | Warnings for drug use and all of the things that go with that. Possibly also sexual themes. The OOC post for this is here.

On the morning of February 14th when the Tributes come down for breakfast they're greeted by an impressive holiday themed spread. Pink and red baked goods, chocolates shaped like hearts, beautiful red and pink flowers, adorable stuffed animals all line the table.

On the table is also a sign in cursive that reads:

To our beloved Tributes, Victors, Mentors, Escorts and Stylists. Enjoy your holiday. -- Bartlett Industries

Most of the sweets are completely harmless, but if the Tributes taste the chocolate covered cherries or caramels they find themselves suddenly acting very strangely...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"You are wrong."

He had come to the wrong house for consolation. Morrigan dipped one shoulder slightly, enough to turn her head and watch him. Whatever the circumstance, however many false deaths she may die, Morrigan was not one to suffer delusions of any form. Whatever world they may have crossed into, she, at least, was very much alive.

And so, rather poor company for ghosts.

"Duty is long behind you. Behind us both. 'Tis better to accept such truths on your own terms. Rather than allow them to be forced upon you by...hm." She gave a soft scoff as she continued, "Higher powers."

"I know." He said it simply, without looking at her, instead looking out over the city. "Of course it isn't true. But I do not know what this world could be, otherwise."

He turned his head, looking back at her, smiling slightly.

"Was it your father or your mother?" He asked, half to change the topic, half in honest interest as the chocolate overrode the better part of his sense.

"My father or my mother?"

Her expression reflected her level of confusion at the sudden shift, the previous topic near utterly driven from her mind. Perhaps those gifts had possessed some unique properties after all, to grant the man's thoughts such flights of fancy and chaos.

"They are not here." A small pause, followed by a concession. "To my knowledge. What concerns of theirs could so trouble you now?"

"Your... abilities," He explained, realising that perhaps his train of thought was not so apparent. They had been talking of gods and 'higher beings' after all.

"I've heard of such powers, but only in the hands of the children of Gods."

"Children of-"

She very nearly laughed. In truth, it was not so very much a matter of will crushing the amusement as an acknowledgement that, perhaps, Flemeth may be some part divinity that stopped the sound. Considering Morrigan's own quest, it would not be so far fetched an idea, granted that ones definition of 'god' were a loose one. Her confusion did not fade entirely from her expression, her words now slow and measured, but reply she did.

"Hm. In truth? I did not know my father. Though my mother, 'tis said, has lived for some unnatural time. That is, if you would believe her tales. But God? I would not called her such. Yet I have been branded worse, I suppose, than a divine bastard. If such is how you would name me."

Maximus nodded, as if her words were only confirmation. After all, which heroes had ever known their godly parent? It made sense that she wouldn't know, and indeed, only made it the more likely.

He smiled slightly. "Perhaps you are meant to complete a great quest before he reveals himself and grants you his name," Maximus suggested, half in jest and half completely seriously. For the first time he wondered if his place here had nothing to do with him - if perhaps he was part of another person's quest, a side track from his own revenge in a strange game put on by the Gods.

But he did not voice it.

"Ah, now that 'twould be a strange twist to the tale, indeed. One my mother would find great amusement in, I think."

It was tempting to simply laugh at the notion the paternal role had any real importance in her life- but knowing Flemeth, Morrigan found it difficult to fully dismiss the notion. Her own origins were as much a mystery to her as anyone. Who was to say Flemeth had not contracted a demonic entity to sire her? Though, in any case, should she ever meet her father Morrigan held no elision it would be in the form of some noble god. That though alone twisted her mouth into a faint smile as she watched him.

"But I have no interest in quests. That is the province of heroes. Truly, could you see me as such a thing?"

Maximus smiled faintly. "Well, you are no Hercules," He admitted, teasing gently. "But it makes more sense than much else I've come across, since coming here."

He turned his eyes back out to the city, walking right to the edge without a care even though they were many stories up. He looked down on the city that never slept.

"I saw what you could do, under the ice. I do not know if I believed in Gods before, but it's hard to dismiss the evidence of my own eyes." He'd never prayed to the Gods - his whispered words always left to his ancestors. He hoped they were with him now, too.

"I have...renewed your faith?"

There is an amused tilt to her voice she doesn't bother to hide. Laughing at such a thing may not be kind, but Morrigan never claimed such a title.

"There are powers greater than you could dream, Maximus. Perhaps I am one of them. But no force that cares for something as fragile as human life is behind my abilities. And certainly no god which has long since turned its back on mortal affairs- indeed, if it ever heeded them to start."

Maximus laughed.

"I wouldn't say renewed so much as... made obvious my ignorance."

He nodded, though he had little understanding of what she spoke - it was well beyond his realm of knowledge and not entirely something he was sure that he wanted to learn about.

"Regardless, it was impressive," He said, admitting something he might otherwise have not, offering a smile. "Wherever your power comes from, it is a sight to behold. Are you able to use it here, or is it as it was on the ice?"

The smile melted from amusement to cold as she turned to join him in gazing over the city, resting on the edge. Morrigan could still not understand the abilities they possessed, to take her magic from her. Something even the Templars could not achieve without damaging the very mind of a mage, as well. But she would, eventually. And then the true games would begin.

"Were I whole here and now, do you think I would play so obliging a slave?"

"Sometimes there are more reasons to act a slave," Maximus said, his tone slightly odd. Speaking from experience rather than hypothetically. But he offered her a sympathetic look.

"I can't imagine what it would be like, to have that kind of power and be unable to access it. Perhaps like losing both my arms..."

He grew quiet for a moment, before pointing out to a large building covered with lights. To change the subject, again? Perhaps. It was not best to dwell on the things they had lost. Power, arms, or families.

"This place is strange. Why does one building need so many lamps?"

Morrigan is silent for a long moment, watching him despite the gesture. It was unbearable, in truth. Intolerable. To be so much less than what she was. But she would not speak of such. Not to this man, perhaps not even to the Warden herself. The struggle of discontentment passes over her face before she turns to follow his gesture, the change in subject taken.

"Some mistake excess for power. I would imagine that particular building is supposed to be found important."

He was silent for a moment, still staring at the building.

"Or wishes to make itself important." Another lengthy pause before he turned, the drugs helping to make the smile on his lips into a rueful half grin.

"Care to go scouting?"

"Ah, 'tis not a request when debt is involved."

Getting some feel to the city was part of her eventual plan- simply a semi-dreaded part. She had little appetite left for the world of man. But there was no helping it. Even if it would have been far easier as a cat.

"No, but one might consider it ceremony to ask." He stepped back from the edge and motioned for her to follow him as he made his way back across the roof to the stairs.

((ooc: go ahead and skip to them getting there, if you like? not sure what kind of place it is but maybe a nightclub/brothel/casino sort of thing? All your sins, get them in one place.))

[sounds good!

Morrigan does not overly enjoy the journey. She had barely gotten used to traveling cities with the Warden, and all of them combined would hardly be much larger than the Capitol is alone. Without her magic as a shield, she doesn't exactly hide behind Maximus, but there is an undeniable level of hovering occurring. She is a woman far outside her natural element, and not simply because of the difference in time.

When they reach their destination she pauses before the doorway.]

Lovely. Shall we be borrowing a bed or merely one of the occupants of them?

[Maximus had been far outside his element as soon as he was outside of the arena and inside of the city - but he was not one to show weakness if he could help it. (He also would never admit that something about acting the protector to Morrigan appealed to him deeply.)

But he glanced up at the sign as they came to a halt in the doorwary, tilting his head. Where usually he would be slightly embarrassed by the suggestion, the warm thrum of liquid courage (or perhaps liquid stupidity?) in his veins was keeping him from backing off where he otherwise might.]

I'm sure they do previews without partaking.

[A slight half smile before he pushed in through the door, not waiting to see if Morrigan was following him.]

[Of course she was. As much as it may prick at her pride, both by word and current circumstance she was bound to follow- typically, the former may not mean much, but as it seemed they would be knowing one another for some time there was no cause to make that detail known yet. So in she goes, to sigh faintly at the scene within rather than the one without.]

Everyone pays for vice, in my experience. Even the previews. Which what makes the purpose of these places a mystery to me.

You find brothels a mystery?

[There was no doorman, no cover charge, and as soon as they were inside the vices began - endless rows of them. He glanced in the first room where the music throbbed and the citizens dances, most of them at least half-way naked, and ignored it to continue down the hall.]

I would think that any time you had men and money they would arise.

Oh, certainly. Yet everyone pays for sex. Forming a specific location for it seems superfluous.

[She had opened her mouth again, as if to continue, but hesitated for a half second, her lips forming a thin line as her attention as momentarily distracted by the dance. And music.

If it could be called such.]

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OPEN Valentine's Day Plot

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