thecapitol | Maybe I'm a sinner and not a saint

Who| Jennifer Blackwood & You.
What| Open log to chat with the Tribute Comfort & Care Administrator
Where| Jennifer's office in the Tribute Center
When| Anytime this month. Feel free to specify as needed.
Warnings/Notes| N/A

With the new influx of Tributes, Jennifer has had her work cut out for her. There are so many files to memorize, so many new faces to welcome to the Capitol. It's time consuming, but she finds purpose in it, and playing welcoming committee chair is something she's rather good at. The task of putting a friendly, human face to the Capitol is difficult, but she's somehow thriving. Of course, it doesn't hurt to have so many wonderful stylists and escorts on her side for this.

And happily, she's found some recent success in terms of Tribute requests. By all accounts, Feferi's salt water shampoo campaign is a real hit, and Buddy Glass has reported his satisfaction with Junior Peacekeeper Terezi's role as a media assistant, and Justine Florbelle was apparently pleased with her medical intern, Joly. And Jennifer had just received the happy news that Albert and Jet would be allowed a special suite to share, one which would unite the second and third floors. Construction would soon be underway, and Jennifer was pleased to share the news with them. Little things like that mattered in the end. Happy Tributes meant happy viewers at home, and happy viewers meant a happy President. And that was the bottom line, wasn't it?

In spite of the work she had before her, Jennifer purposely kept open office hours to allow Tributes, mentors, and employees of the Tribute Center to visit her to petition for various requests. Everyone was welcome to see her, but Jennifer was cautious after the incident with Eponine and found she was more likely to call for Peacekeeper back up than ever before. The moment a situation seemed like it would get out of hand, she would press one of several alarms hidden around her office and alert the authorities that she was in distress. These alarms were a new addition to her office, but a necessary one. She wasn't going to risk being attacked by a Tribute again.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Zombies. It takes a moment for the word to click, one he recognizes only because Clementine had introduced him to it back at the diner. He listens patiently, lightly quirking a brow at her choice of words. ‘Believe’ didn’t sound all too reassuring. But, of course, it could just have been a more formal way of phrasing things.

If this cure worked, then they could put post-death anxieties to rest and know that if and when they fell in the arena, they’d stay dead. No one would be in the position where they’d be forced to put a loved one out of their misery that way. It’d offer some measure of cold comfort. But there are so many factors to consider first. So much information he’d need to bring to his friends.

His expression is thoughtful though untouched by relief or joy or hope. “So how’s this work, exactly?" There's no asking the kid who received treatment; from what Luke was told, he was dead and gone for good. "I don’ suppose the Capitol has some footage I could take a look at?” What with the cameras and recording devices just about poking up all their asses, he wouldn’t be too surprised.

"I'm not sure I could properly explain all of the technical details of the treatment. My skills lie in person-to-person interactions rather than in the scientific or medicinal fields. That said, I would be happy to give you access to as much footage as we have available, and to put you in contact with the correct officials to see about getting you whatever medical assistance you might need." Justine would likely be of some use, perhaps Joly as well, in administering treatment as was necessary.

She smiled at Luke, wanting him to see her as compassionate and kind. She really was concerned for him, and for all of the other Tributes. It was her job to be. "You see, our treatments come from experiments done on some past Tributes who exhibited similar symptoms to the ones you've encountered previously. Perry and R, in particular, were of great use in terms of developing a treatment. I'm sure you'd find R's appearances in the Games of particular value, considering he was infected with the virus for most of his stay with us."

A little knot forms in his gut. Of course, the treatment for the infection had to come from somewhere – and someone had to play the role of the guinea pig to make it happen. Someone had to suffer. And ‘be of use’.

He tries for another smile despite himself. “Well a'right then. I'd appreciate that." Then: "Do you, uh… have a piece of paper an’ a pen I could use for a sec?”

Edited 2015-01-20 02:41 (UTC)

She was trying to be helpful, she really was, but she couldn't help but feel as though she might not have all the answers Luke needed. Regardless, she would try. She owed it to all of the Tributes to do her very best with what little power she had. It was her job, and she would do a good one.

"Of course," Jennifer said, retrieving a pen and paper for him and handing it to him with a smile.

He accepts them with a quiet ‘thank you’ again and pens down ‘R’ and ‘Perry’ before glancing up with raised brows, mildly expectant. “So who else should I be talkin' to about all this? There anyone you might be able to hook me up with who had a part in developin' this thing?”

"There's Justine Florbelle, first of all. She's the physician in charge of Tribute medical care. She would be the best person to speak to on the matter." Jennifer paused, realizing how prickly a person Justine could be. "You also might try her assistant. Thierry Joly is a Tribute and a physician. He's in District 12 and he's a very kind individual. You might try him for information as well."

Justine. The line of his jaw sharpens. She had seemed pleasant enough when he agreed to his first physical in two years, curious as to the tolls on-and-off starvation, poor hygiene, and limited access to medical supplies had taken on his body and not yet aware of the impermanence of death. But when the casual flirting she had eased him into the experience with crossed the fine line of professionalism and veered into too-familiar territory when and where it shouldn’t have, he left when he could and never looked back. Gave Nick a heads up when he could.

God, did he miss being able to consult Carlos for medical advice. He missed Carlos.

He’s quiet a moment longer, silenced by a throb of guilt. It puts a furrow between his brows.

"Justine... an' Joly." Luke echoes, mildly surprised by the fact that ‘Joly’ is, in fact, a guy’s name. He gets the names down. “Looks like I got my work cut out for me.”

If she was at all surprised by the way his jaw seemed to clench and his brows furrowed, Jennifer didn't comment on it. She had her own thoughts on the peculiarities of their resident physician, thoughts which she kept tidily to herself. Instead, she offered Luke a warm smile, a look of true compassion. "I'd speak with Joly first. He's a gentleman. A real one. And if you don't find either of them helpful, come back to me, alright?"

He can’t imagine that it’s easy, fielding questions and complaints day in and day out from dozens of tributes – but that’s why it’s her sitting across the table and not him in her seat. He wouldn’t put it past her to be tasked with keeping tabs on tributes, quietly reporting anything that might be of interest. It'd be unwise to confide in his dissatisfaction and slow-burning, smouldering anger to any stranger, much more so someone who was anything other than a tribute. But it’s not a risk he’s verging on taking here. As it is, he has only just barely opened up to his own friends in recent weeks.

Luke scratches at the nape of his neck, chuffing out a little laugh and it manages to sound genuine enough. He can already see himself swinging back into this office before long. “Yeah, that's the, uh... that's the plan.”

Discomfort or not, he has a mind to visit both Joly and Justine to gather as much information as possible. But Joly would come first. That he was a 'gentleman' wasn't half as important as what he might be able to offer.

“Guess that about does it for now. Thank you... for takin' the time to point me in the right direction, miss." He hands back the pen, folding the paper neatly into squares and stuffing it into the back-pocket of his jeans as he stands. "I appreciate it."

"You're very welcome, Luke." She walked with him to the door and opened it for him. "And please remember that you can come to me anytime you need to speak with someone. I can't solve every problem, but I do try to make things more comfortable for you and the other Tributes. Your comfort here in the Capitol is my priority, and I take it very seriously. And again, if they aren't helpful to you, come right back to me and I'll straighten things out."

He wants more than anything to be able to exhaustedly drop his guard and settle into the state of ease she’s trying to coax him into. But he feels like he’s listening to a politician’s campaign speech and it’s all he can do just to smile and nod like a good citizen of the Capitol is expected to. They all have their roles to play.

“I'll keep that in mind.” He says, before stepping out. “You have a good day now.”

Fresh food in abundance, hot showers, and beds (!) that were warm and clean and devoid of springs jabbing his ribs or ass depending on how he lay down on them -- these were luxuries he and Nick and Clem had long since gone without. Luxuries so dangerously easy to wallow in, to become all too comfortable around. But this isn’t where they belong.

Better the hell they knew well, he thinks, than the sad parody of a normal life they were offered here between brutal death matches.

Edited 2015-01-28 04:25 (UTC)

Maybe I'm a sinner and not a saint

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now with less fail on my part

\o/

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