thecapitol | [OPEN]

Who| Thranduil & OPEN
What| Of Elvenkings and elevators
Where| Training Center; Central Commons
When| January 3rd
Warnings/Notes| None at the moment.

After the initial outrage had died down some, Thranduil took to investigating the area in a quiet and casual manner. Supposedly, this is where he was to reside. Unfortunately, though he was given directions to his more private living space, he had yet to understand how to use the small room with the many buttons and moving doors... rather than admit to anyone that he was at a loss, The king takes to inspecting the room and its contents.

Though the furnishings seemed comfortable enough in appearance, they were also... very strange. He inspects a curtain with mild interest, running his fingers lightly over the fabric to feel the smoothness of it. It was not of Elven make, but well crafted none the less. The brightness of the color, though, rubbed him the wrong way, so he moves from it and finds a tall backed chair to sit in. He crosses one leg over the other at the knee and hangs his arms casually over the armrests.

Here there was a clear line of sight to the small room with the numbers, so he might be able to discern it's use if he observed the people going in and out of it long enough.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Normally Thranduil would be insulted by that question, but when he sees it comes from the lips of a child he cannot fault them. A mortal's childhood was so brief a time it was entirely possible that she had never seen an Elf before. Curiosity was a desirable trait in one so young.

"Yes, I am an Elf."

His expression softens a touch. For the moment he had no need to be imposing.

"What is your name?"

Edited 2015-01-06 16:34 (UTC)

"Wow... that's really cool. Um." That was probably on the weird side of things to say. He doesn't look irritated by her question anyway. She's thrilled at meeting a real elf but trying not to show it too much. It probably filters through anyway.

Clementine smiles up at him (up and up, because he is very tall even sitting down), "My name's Clementine. What's yours?"

He doesn't understand why she chose to say it was cool, as the room seemed warm enough, but he gets the impression that she's pleased. He won't dwell on the vocabulary. Children said odd things now and then.

"I am King Thranduil."

Though the words weren't said at all pretentiously, it's clear he thinks she should know who he is.

"You're a king, too? Really? Where are you the king of?" She has no recognition of your name at all, Thranduil.

While Clementine has met a lot of varied people since she came to Panem but she doesn't think she's met anyone who was a king before, or at least claimed to be, though she's not sure why anyone would lie about that. Still, to meet an elf and a king, she can get excited about that as much as she tries not to show it. After living in a zombie apocalypse for three years and now through the Hunger Games she needs to take all the good parts she can.

"It's nice to meet you."

He's a little surprised at that, but still, he can't blame her for her ignorance.

"A star shines upon the hour of our meeting, young one. I rule the Woodland Realm, in the northern part of the Greenwood."

'Mirkwood' was not a name he would use, or ever use.

"I don't think I've ever met someone who was royalty before." she tells him, pleased, "I never met an elf before either. We didn't have any kings or queens where I come from, except in stories."

It's the same story with elves.

"For all things there is a first, for the young this is true most of all."

Something she said had him curious though.

"If you do not have kings in your lands, who is it that rules?"

He wonders now if her people were more like the Silvan of old, before his father's coming to the Greenwood.

"Yeah, I guess so. It always seems that way." Which isn't always great, except in this case it is so far.

Clementine answers easily, "The president was in charge. Some other countries had kings and queens, I think, but mine had a president."

It wasn't so unusual to hear of kings and queens in other lands, but the title of 'president' he had not heard before. Perhaps it was something like a steward, such as Gondor had?

"How well does this president rule?"

"Um... I don't know. There hasn't been one for a few years where I live. We don't have people in charge anymore." she tries to explain, as always finding it a little awkward when it came to talking about her home life. "A bad thing happened, it killed most of the people and now there's not many of us left, not enough to have a president anymore."

Well maybe, it was more that everyone was so disorganised and so scattered that it was impossible for any one person to be in charge.

"This place has a president too. He's called Cornelius Snow, he's the one in charge."

'A bad thing happened' could mean many things, but immediately Thranduil's mind wanders back to a time in ages past. A time when he was only a little more grown than she was, at least by the measure of Elves. High King Thingol slain, and shortly after King Dior in the sack of Doriath and the Second Kinslaying. Few Sindar survived those days; his own mother killed and their homeland destroyed.

"You have my sympathies," he says sincerely, though there's no indication on his face that his thoughts had been of darker times. Still, he feels for her and would remember what she had told him.

The talk of a president - someone who ruled, from what he gathered - being present here has him intrigued. Perhaps he was closer to finding out some answers.

"This Cornelius Snow... what do you know of him?"

As always she's never quite sure how to respond to that. Sympathies is easier than when they say they're sorry, like it's their fault. Sympathies sounds like what it is. Clem nods her head a little, uttering a soft "Thank you."

On the subject of President Snow she'll happily tell Thranduil what she knows, even if that doesn't amount to much.

"I know he's been in charge for a really long time, I think almost as long as they've been having the games because he's pretty old. I've never seen him in person but I've seen some of his speeches on television. He lives in a big mansion across the city."

He's quiet for a moment, thinking about this president and wondering how he might speak with him. The information on where he lives the king files away in his mind.

"How often does he address his people?"

"Not often, usually when something important happens." she thinks back, frowning. She can count the number of times she's seen Snow talk on one hand, not counting repeats. "The Capitol people who work here could tell you more about him."

The escorts were probably the best one's to ask. They were usually Capitolites born and bred.

"I may do so."

He pauses, looking her over and also remembering their supposed purpose here. It was far too cruel to put a child through such a thing, and internally he could feel an angry heat welling up inside of him for whoever was responsible for all of this. Externally he remains neutral in expression. He stands.

"You have my thanks for answering my questions, Clementine. I must go now, but perhaps we may meet again."

There was a lot he had to think about now, regarding this president and the circumstances of the tributes here. The ruin of Doriath so recently stirred in his memory made him want to be alone with his thoughts, as well.

"You're welcome." she says automatically, craning her neck to look up at him when he stands and nodded when Thranduil states his intention to leave. He's so tall. "It was nice meeting you."

A real life elf. That's going to keep her happy for a good few hours at least. She'll watch Thranduil leave before making her own way out from the bar, a bit more of a bounce in her step for the experience.

[OPEN]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

...congrats you managed to give Thranduil feels.

<3 it's her talent

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject