yourmove: (061)
alex murphy || robocop 2014 ([personal profile] yourmove) wrote in [community profile] thecapitol2014-11-13 01:56 am

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Who| Alex Murphy, Aragorn, Megan Gwynn, Sam Wilson, Oswald Mandus, Buddy Glass, Black Tom post-approval
What| Alex is interviewed by Tributes and Buddy Glass to determine if he'll be a Tribute or graduate to the ranks of the Peacekeepers.
Where| Training Center/Tribute Suite
When| After the Crowning
Warnings/Notes| None so far.

They bring Alex Murphy out of maintenance early when he receives the papers, with "eligible to start the interview process" written at the top in small, flowing cursive. He doesn't celebrate. His team doesn't expect him to - they hug, crack open a bottle of champagne that is cheap enough to be hopeful but not overboard because technically he hasn't become a Peacekeeper. They think he has a good chance. They aren't interested in discussing probabilities, however, so Alex leaves them to it and moves on to meet each of his interviewers.

Wherever he goes, he's announced by the whirring of his chassis, the heavy thud of armored footsteps. When he knocks, it's polite and almost surgical, no impatience or nervousness or any sign that he has a personal stake in something that could decide his future. Just a 1-2-3 series of raps with his flesh hand as he stands there waiting to be let in.

Edit: Individual subthreads up for the interviews with Alex
soultospare: (❀ bites)

[personal profile] soultospare 2014-11-13 07:14 pm (UTC)(link)
How exactly Megan got picked for this was beyond her. She didn't know Alex Murphy, she barely even knew what a Peacekeeper was, and she had no real idea of what it meant for a Tribute to become a Capitol citizen. She was probably the least qualified person to determine Alex's worthiness for the role. And yet, there she was, dressed in a subdued, yet fashion-forward ensemble, prepped and coached by her handlers as to what to say to him and how to perform her duties properly.

When the knock comes, she rises to her feet and practically flutters over to the door. The smile on her face is nervous. Despite having had the questions and procedures fed to her, she's still unsure what she ought to expect. As she opens the door to let Alex in, her voice is loud and squeaky, "Hi! I'm Megan. It's nice to meet you, Mister... um..."
soultospare: (❀ squint)

[personal profile] soultospare 2014-11-18 03:20 am (UTC)(link)
"U-uh, yeah, I do." Black eyes blink rapidly as she scampers back over to her own seat. As eye catching as she is herself, she can't help but stare at him. He's like if Iron Man, if Iron Man weren't a raging alcoholic and had a lot more self-discipline. Megan can't decide if that's a good thing or not.

She takes a seat, eying his chair suspiciously. "Right then. Mister Murphy, why would you like to leave the Games?"

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sizeofyourbaggage: (what're you thinking now)

[personal profile] sizeofyourbaggage 2014-11-14 08:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Honestly, Sam's got no idea what he's doing here. He's not in any way qualified to figure out what'd make someone a good Capitol citizen - except apparently an enjoyment for watching people kill each other - and when push comes to shove, he'd be more inclined to vote for approval just to get someone out of the arena.

But he's there anyway, waiting for the guy to show up. Because he'd been asked to, and Sam's still playing along with them as best as he can, and because, all right, he's curious about Murphy. Despite being in his district, he hasn't met the guy yet, but he has talked with Dr. Norton about him. And some of the things he'd said, well, they're definitely adding to Sam's curiosity.

When he hears the knock at the door, Sam answers quickly. Based on what Dr. Norton told Sam, this has to be him.

"Murphy." It's a simple greeting, accompanied by a head nod as he opens the door to let him in. "Come on in."
sizeofyourbaggage: (listening)

[personal profile] sizeofyourbaggage 2014-11-18 08:37 pm (UTC)(link)
His eyebrows raise a little at that tone, but he doesn't bristle at all, even if part of him'd like to. But he does wonder, if this is part of what Dr. Norton said he was hoping to fix. He'd called him cold, and Sam can't say he's wrong.

Still, he gestures towards one of the chairs in the room, after Murphy's done with his surveillance. There's still more than enough military left in Sam that his room is spotless - not that he's been here long enough to have really anything personal in it.

He sits down in another chair, nodding in response to the question. "Yeah, I can do that. Why do you want to be a Peacekeeper?"

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elfstone: (and I'd do anything to make you stay)

[personal profile] elfstone 2014-11-18 07:22 pm (UTC)(link)
Come in.

[Thorongil is seated at the head of the table in the suite's common area; he gestures for Murphy to sit down.

He knows what's happening; why he's here has been explained to him. This man is petitioning to be let out of the Arena, something Thorongil can understand. Privately, he has already all but made up his mind about it already -- why would he deny someone who wished to leave? -- and the questions were all but formality.

At least, until he saw Murphy walk in.

The way the man moves is wrong. It is too regular, too controlled, with no energy spared for useless movement -- this man was not human. At least, not entirely. Surprise and unease flash across Thorongil's face before he can stop them: what has been done to this man?

But when he speaks, his voice is steady.

Sit down.
elfstone: (never knew daylight could be so violent)

[personal profile] elfstone 2014-11-19 07:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[Ah, his crimes. Yes, he is something of a highwayman, is he not? A thief and a murderer who makes his living in the wild by preying on others, and who recently ventured into the Capitol sewers without permission

He will not correct Murphy.

And the purpose of this interview is to determine whether or not you will be released from the Arena, correct?

[He has been given questions, he has read them -- but how much he will follow the script is still up in the air.]

It is not difficult to see why a man would wish to petition out. Yet why do you seek it? Do you wish to escape from the suffering and death that the Arena brings? Or is there something else?

[He hadn't been planning to ask in so much detail. However, the mechanical man sets Thorongil's teeth on edge, and Thorongil cannot assume that he has normal motivations for anything.]

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pigspigspigs: (sink him in a barrel of gin)

[personal profile] pigspigspigs 2014-11-13 03:21 pm (UTC)(link)
In Mandus's house, the carpets are ornate and the walls are filled with paintings from a long forgotten era. A skeleton crew of Avoxes flitter about the halls. Other than Alex and Mandus, they are the only living souls within these thousands of square footage. The whole place gives off the impression of emptiness -- but not abandonment. Every piece of furniture is perfectly dusted, perfectly maintained. The house resembles a stage, a place where great things might yet happen.

A place where great things will happen.

"Mr. Murphy," he says, guiding the man into a room with two large arm chairs and a rather impressive grandfather clock, "Can I interest you in a drink? Some water? Some tea?"
pigspigspigs: (birds far above in the jungle canopy)

[personal profile] pigspigspigs 2014-11-14 02:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Mandus has already been primed to dislike this strange robotic man. What purpose does it serve, mixing something so imperfect as a man with a machine? If the people from Murphy's world wanted something truly special, truly admirable, they would have built a machine and left it at that. In Mandus's eyes, Murphy is hardly different from an Avox. Something dirty, something rotten, molded into an ideal that could never truly be met.

He sneers.

"If you would please, Mr. Murphy," he says, swallowing his disgust and taking the opposite chair. "I will ask the questions when I am good and ready. You see, I like to treat these interviews as a conversation. Not an interrogation."

He tenses his fingers around the arm of his chair, then relaxes every joint, every muscle. It is important to keep his temper in check.

"Now tell me," he resumes, calmer, "Why is it that you cannot drink liquids? And how do acquire nourishment?"

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parenthetically: (pic#8006316)

Re: Buddy Glass

[personal profile] parenthetically 2014-11-16 11:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Buddy Glass' renown predilection to the meticulous did not, it seemed, extend to his work spaces. The luxurious office on the top floor of Peacekeeper HQ was made infinitely smaller by the stacks of files, books (thick looking tomes, really), pamphlets and other written materials that towered imposingly on the massive bookshelves that covered all conceivable wall space. Worse, however, was the fact that the overhead light had been disregarded entirely in favor of a small banker's lamp, and the window (the curtains of which, even if it hadn't been late in the afternoon, were drawn).

All in all, it rendered the office of the top ranking Peacekeeper in all of Panem seem cavernous. It reeked of ink and seemed to exude the feeling of being one man's space. To walk in it, even on legitimate business, was to intrude on his domain. Which wasn't to say that it wasn't cozy, it was simply cozy for a particular individual with absolutely no regard for the potential unease of anyone else.

In this contained, cavernous chaos, Buddy paced. Not out of any irritation, really, but rather out of a trepidation. He was, after all, to interview a potential new recruit. One that seemed promising, at that. The mix of eager anticipation and positive disdain for the bureaucratic rigmarole necessary for such things weighed heavily on him, to say nothing of the letter-writing-type's typical aversion to face-to-face interactions. So, he paced, back and forth between the stacks of papers and books, stopping only when the expected knock finally knocked and the hope of some resolution dragged him forcibly from it.

"Alex Murphy?" The question wasn't phrased as such, but rather read as a customary pleasantly to be easily brandied about as he settled back behind an oversized desk, Alex's file confidently in hand. "Take a seat, please. You understand we have some questions for you and I felt it best if I were to administer them personally. We care deeply about the quality of individuals who serve Panem. There are just a few things that can't be gleaned from watching videos of your Arenas. Before we begin, do you have any questions for me?"
parenthetically: (pic#8006315)

[personal profile] parenthetically 2014-11-25 11:25 pm (UTC)(link)
It had been difficult for Buddy to overcome his propensity to flinch under such an intense expression. As a younger man, he'd repeated mantras in order to hold his ground. In another life, Buddy suspected he might be extraordinarily easily bullied. Perhaps easily enough that he could be bullied by letter. Ball-point pens held a particularly denunciatory appearance when pressed hard enough onto a bleached, loose-leaf page. As things were, however, Buddy met Alex's gaze impassively, looking away only when he was sure the man had finished his thought. It was a move of conspicuous consideration.

"Lower the probability of personal harm while ignoring their personal feelings on the matter. We have armor, and, all things considered, there are few incidents of violence against Peacekeepers in the Capitol and out in the Districts. It's not a pressing enough issue that we need to address it immediately, and I'm for keeping my boys as happy as possible. Some people might opt into it, at some point, I suppose, but I wouldn't ever force something like that on them unless it were the only option." He paused, shuffling papers on his desk until Alex's file was placed neatly (or, mostly neatly, at any rate) on top. "And then there's the expense to consider. Not to mention the risks of testing that kind of technology. Without knowing about side effects, I could end up losing men.

"Do you have any other questions? If not, I have a few for you."

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pimpcanes: (Basic - Curly Mustache)

[personal profile] pimpcanes 2014-11-20 08:40 pm (UTC)(link)
Tom doesn't hate Alex Murphy. Far from, actually; he finds him idle entertainment, one of the many small notches in his belt, a nuisance at worst but mostly one of his new situation's curiosities. Ultimately, he's got the upper hand between them; not only did he kill Alex in the Arena (and so easily), but he's also insulated by the rules of the Capitol. He's inoculated against retribution.

That may all be about to change, and that makes Tom not nervous, but mildly annoyed. This time, rather than 'politely' avoiding Alex by going to his room or out with Molotov when Detective Murphy makes his visit to Clara, he stays put in the kitchen, where rather than cooking he's brewing coffee at approximately four o'clock in the afternoon (totally reasonable, he thinks, having been up late with his Russian tigress). He doesn't eavesdrop, but he leaves implicit the possibility that he would, and rather than have his presence linger around them Clara and Alex go elsewhere to do other things.

When Alex escorts Clara back to her room later, Tom's still there, with coffee and his network device and slippers on as if he's going to call it an early night. The large hologram wall in the lounge is set to display a crackling fire. When Alex is alone, Tom raises an eyebrow and looks over at him from the lounge chair.

"I hear you had interviews."
pimpcanes: (Basic - Curly Mustache)

[personal profile] pimpcanes 2014-11-24 03:52 am (UTC)(link)
"Congratulations." Though Tom smiles enough to deepen his eyes into crow's feet, there is no warmth in his face. His eyes are like ice and his smile like a canyon carved into his lips, handsome yet forbidding, with the hint of teeth like whitecap rapids.

He tempers his annoyance by remembering how a single blow dropped Alex like a sack of flour. How easy it was to undo the tin soldier.

"Unfortunately, as you likely understand already, you hardly have permission to arrest me, as I've done nothing but obey the laws of this fine city." He gets up out of his chair, cracking his neck as he does so, and walks across to his new bonsai tree. As irate as he was to lose the first, he's adapted by taking his tree to his bedroom when he isn't out here to watch it. He takes the pair of comically tiny scissors fixed to the side of the pot and trims a stray leaf idly.

"In fact, the city encourages me to undergo the actions I took in the Arena. You'll find that the actions of Tributes in the Games are exonerated by legal procedure upon our release from the match."

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