Mission: Capitol Liberation

[etcircenses]

Who| Bucky Barnes, Enjolras, Joan Watson, Punchy, & Marius Pontmercy.
What| Liberation of the idiots.
Where| The Tribute Center
When| January 1st
Warnings/Notes| N/A

This leg of the mission would require more stealth and discretion than anything else. The team would go into the Capitol, making use of the smuggling method the rebels had established and make their way into the Tribute Center. Bucky, Enjolras, and Joan would be provided with elaborate disguises to aid in their infiltration if necessary, otherwise they would be very much on their own. The hovercraft couldn't wait around for them and they would have no back up in case something went wrong.

It wasn't until they were nearly to the Capitol that their targets were revealed. Punchy and Marius. Wait... Punchy and Marius?

Doubts as to their suitability as soldiers aside, the trio's mission was clear. They had to be in and out of there and at the rendezvous point before 2300. It was 0700 when they were dropped off. Plenty of time, right? Right?

Comments

[formersurgeon]

She's thinking as fast as she can. The cameras were still on them. They need a narrative so they don't tip the watchers off to what is actually going on.

The one she settles on requires more kissing. And she has to look happy about it. She's going to apologize when they're safely on their way to 13.

She steps in, pulls his head down roughly, and kisses him again, hard.

"We're getting out of here," she whispers against his lips. "Pretend I'm taking you off to have sex with you, one on one, somewhere else. Be eager."

She parts, gives him her best seductive smile, and speaks in a lilting tone.

"There's got to be a back door to the tower. Somewhere where we won't be swarmed by more ... fangirls."

[culturalappropriation]

"Avox quarters," he says quickly, and for a moment he seems entirely lucid. He knows it would probably be a decent cover, him taking her to that private place full of mutes to make out knowing no one would tell on them. But it makes him nauseous, and beneath her hands and lips he shudders at the idea of going back there for anything but to commune with his silent allies.

"They don't like Tribs seeing the Avoxes before they mouths is healed up. They got a tunnel to burn rubber when they truck 'em in." He gets vacant again, distracted by her hair, by her neck. She told him not to play with her hair, so he doesn't, but he lets himself get lost in the image of it. "Elevator."

[formersurgeon]

Even without the shudder, Joan knows how difficult this must be for him, how important the Avoxes are to him She adds it to her mental list of things to discuss with him when this is all over, and her next kiss is gentle, meant to comfort, to call his attention back to the matter at hand.

"Take me there."

[culturalappropriation]

"A'ight." He stumbles for the elevator and the whole world seems to spin. He can feel the crash coming, the bottoming out of his brain, knows in maybe twenty minutes and god knows he can't tell time that he's going to be completely useless.

There's a code he can punch into the elevator and then it's taking them down, down fast, and he's not much of an actor now because he's shaking and with his inhibitions lowered he looks scared.

[formersurgeon]

She's seen people crash before. Too many times, actually. So when she sees that slight stumble in his step, sees him shaking, sees the fear on his face...she knows they don't have a lot of time. It can disrupt their narrative, but that's a very far second to her primary concern.

Him.

She steps close, wraps her arms around him, meets his eyes.

"Hold on to me. It's going to be okay."

[culturalappropriation]

Normally he can fortify himself against the memories, but the drugs make everything clear, as if his psyche is clear icewater. He closes his eyes and breathes through his mouth, letter her hold on to him as he trembles and tells himself that it'll only be a few seconds until he's out of the elevator.

But then, forgetting the pretense, he can't help but try and warn her. "Joanie, they're going to catch you, they're gonna Avox us both- I-"

He clasps her and shakes.

[formersurgeon]

She pulls him closer, holds him tighter, cradles the back of his head with one hand.

"No they won't. I promise. We're going to be fine."

She pauses for a moment, thinking. This is a mess. Things are unraveling, they have very little time, they need to get out of the building, they need to change their tactics.

"Can we find Avox jumpsuits to change into?"

[culturalappropriation]

"Yeah. Yeah, church. I know where it all is. Plus my homies got us." He did this for months, after all.

His scalp sweats against the back of her hand, and for a moment he just breathes into her shoulder.

The elevator doors open to a massive laundry room, where Avoxes bustle around with the vacancy of hopelessness. They somehow seem smaller than normal humans, despite taking up the same space. None of them even look up at Joan and Punchy, because it's none of their business.

"Dawg, I need jumpers and an alibi," he says to one of the Avoxes, his voice shaky. "And one of you mofos needs to shave me. ASAP. Thanks and props to you. Time's come."

He's got blue streaks in his hair. They can't hope to blend in now.

The Avoxes snap to help him with a sort of fervor that they never show with other Tributes and certainly not with citizens.

He turns to Joan. "I gotta be able to wipe this footage remote when we get back, or we- or they-"

The Avoxes will be culpable.

[formersurgeon]

Joan doesn't know if wiping the footage will even be possible. She hopes so, because these Avoxes were in serious, lethal danger if not. And she thinks there's a chance the Rebellion plans on covering their tracks that way. She'll do what she can to see it happens, but she can't promise him it will happen.

Except that's totally what she does.

"Absolutely. I promise." Her expression shows nothing but conviction. Lying is a skill that way predates Panem.

When an Avox hands her a jumpsuit she heads for a somewhat obscured corner and starts shedding her costume, beginning with the ridiculously red and curly wig. The dress is tight and complicated, but she made sure she could both dress and undress quickly and without help, so she manages to peel it off in less than a minute. It has a small pocket sewn into the skirts that contains a plain pair of black shoes and a pack of wipes. She takes off her heels and puts on the shoes, then goes to work wiping all her makeup off.

[culturalappropriation]

Sensing the importance of the situation, one of the Avoxes has already gotten Punchy's hair sheared off by the time Joan's in her Avox outfit. Despite being high still, Punchy seems able to work with the teamwork of the Avoxes as if he were a fish sliding into the same current as the rest of a school. He gets dressed extremely quickly despite the shaking, despite his difficulty keeping his eyes focused, with an automatic simplicity.

"A'ight. I'm good to go." He looks at Joan, still hapless, face still flushed, still dizzy and trembling.

[formersurgeon]

Joan has drawn her hair back and tied it in a ponytail at the nape of her neck, hoping it looks sufficiently different and sufficiently mousy to pull this off. But when she looks at Punchy, her hair is the least of her concerns.

She crosses to him and takes his hands in hers.

"It's not far. Once we get to the meeting place, we can rest a little."

She squeezes his hands.

"Can you do this for me?"

[culturalappropriation]

"Anything for you, Joanie. I can do anything..." He trails off, eyes fixed on something on the far wall, then snaps back to attention and looks at both their hands.

[formersurgeon]

"Hey."

She reaches up, cups his cheek, lifts his face so his eyes meet hers.

"You're going to follow me. Okay? Ignore everything else, just focus on me."

[culturalappropriation]

He nods, breathless and dazed. "I'm focused."

Not for the first time, she becomes his whole world, and he reaches over and gives her bicep a squeeze, holding on for direction.

[formersurgeon]

"You're doing great," she says, letting her thumb caress his cheek breifly. Then she turns, waits for a moment to make sure he's with her, and heads for the exit, keeping her head down.

[culturalappropriation]

He doesn't take her hand. He walks with that automated shuffle of an Avox now, only faster. It's not as if he's put on a costume; it's as if he's temporarily reverted himself entirely.

And so they escape.