So be it, I've done what I've done. [CLOSED]

[futilecycle]

WHO | Sigma Klim and Black Tom Cassidy.
WHAT | Sigma seeks a Pro-Capitol ally during a sizing for the crowning costumes.
WHEN | Present time.
WHERE | District 10 Suites.
WARNINGS/NOTES | It's Sigma and Black Tom. They are not the greatest people. Warnings to be added.



Sigma no longer wasted his time studying the Games. Grief had since broken the habit that once lead him to document each Tribute - to fill entire notebooks worth of information on potential enemies and allies. This was not to mention that the Games had run a bit differently, back then: the number of Tributes had ballooned far past the 'two Tributes per district' he was used to, and to work as he once did would consume much of his time. But even Sigma, recluse now that he was, could not be ignorant of other Tribute's opinions of Black Tom Cassidy. There was a (completely understandable) collective disgust towards those who would play the Games by their rules and play them well. As far as Sigma was aware, this had made "Black Tom" one of the most reviled Tributes among their own kind.

One of the most reviled Tributes other than himself, of course.

But Sigma can hold nothing against this man; whether or not he, too, was an extremely talented actor remained to be seen. Regardless, Zero needed a wicked face to hide behind, someone to encourage him to believe in his own evil act. And he was not ignorant as to how their mentor, Clara, 'won' her Arena...

Finding the right moment to strike up a conversation with Black Tom had been a waiting game - Sigma did not pursue company, and deliberate attempts at socializing would be noticeably out of character. When at last their shared District association pulls them together during a sizing for the upcoming Crowning, Sigma can use the silence as an excuse to strike up small talk. Luck would put them beside eachother, and Sigma seizes the opportunity:

"You know, I begin to tire of these Crownings. Perhaps it would not grate so if the victor did not win courtesy of their good luck... There have been fewer and fewer Tributes who have truly deserved their crown since I arrived..."

He was sure Black Tom's answer to this would be illuminating.

Comments

[pimpcanes]

A man with Tom's tastes is accustomed to tailoring appointments, and the Avoxes and assistants bustling around the Stylist's room seem like flitting birds through a tree, worthy of a moment of curious attention but otherwise unimportant. Tom stands straight and still as they use their tape measures and match fabrics to his skin tone, looking only slightly bored until one of his Suitemates is brought in to join him.

Tom has an interest in Sigma Klim, too. A more sentimental person might call it loneliness, might assume that Tom was keeping an eye out for likeminded individuals to befriend or at least keep company with. The truth is, as always, more mercenary. Sigma's reputation precedes him, and Tom has come to understand that the man has managed to find some footholds in the Capitol social scene. Tom's curiosity is piqued.

That it will be nice to spend time with someone who won't berate him for having killed a few children last Arena is a pleasant bonus.

"Aye. I wouldn't have picked any of the recent winners were I the game's designer or just a gambler." He would shake his head, but there's a tape measure around his neck, for a collar or a turtleneck, likely. "It seems whoever is picking the roster is more interested in teenage romance or melodramatic alliances than actual skill."

[futilecycle]

When Sigma smiles, it is incongruous with the lines set into his face: it is not a smile that comes out of kindness, but from being validated. On cue with the stylist measuring the length of his shoulders, Sigma as Zero raises his chin and makes himself sound like an authority on the subject. "Well, any entertaining game requires fodder, a springboard off of which those with talent can elevate themselves. If it was hope they wished to instill in the lower scores so that they would put up a fight, they have more than done their job..." As to not outright disagree, Sigma hides a note of disappointment in his voice - as though he had expected more from a fellow Gamemaker.

Now, there was hardly a soul who knew about Sigma's impending petition to expatriate into the Capitol, and that secret made for a tool he could hand to Tom. Keeping the rest of his body still, Sigma turns his head towards the other, voice low. "But at this point, if I were a gambling citizen of the Capitol - and I am soon to be, if all goes well - I would feel as though I were throwing my money away..." He chews through the words slowly and without empathy, less a survivor and more a man accustomed to pulling strings from behind glass. "I believe a return to the heart of the Hunger Games is in order." Not the puzzles or luck-based mechanics of prior design, but something embodying the brutality that characterized the fight between districts. A return to lauding Capitolian Tributes like Tom.

[pimpcanes]

"Oh, are you petitioning out? Such a shame. I won't have to kill you now." Tom grins, obfuscating whether or not he means it as a joke or seriously - the truth is that it's both. The grin fades quickly into a sort of cordial smirk, as if they were conspiring together about secrets half the population wouldn't even understand, much less be entitled to know.

"I admit I have little attachment to the political process of the Games itself. My own career was much less structured than all this." He takes the liberty of waving a hand, since the Avox is measuring the width of his ankle now. "I'm hardly the sort of insider you are to these matters. My opinions are myopic, since they're formed inside the Arena and with no expertise."

There's a coy note to his voice, as if he's inviting Sigma to elaborate a bit on what he would do differently.

"Although I'm of the view that I may be even more useful outside the Arena than inside it."

[futilecycle]

Sigma returns Tom's grin, satisfied, as though the threat had been exactly what he'd hoped to hear. While he will not waste time outlining what would make a better Game, his expression communicates that Tom's was the spirit he'd been referring to. "Oh, you will have an opportunity, yet. But do give me time to make good on my word: if I do not leave my last Arena with blood on my hands, I will not be satisfied with myself." He wondered what the stylists buzzing about them thought of their conversation; even those native to the Capitol (or was it especially those?) had the capacity to become rebels.

Though he could not place when it was that Tributes began to think of him as a presence in the Capitol, he is happy to sustain the illusion. "You may be interested to know that I had an enlightening conversation with Ms. Blackwood the other day. She told me that if there are Tributes who could serve a greater purpose in the Capitol, their petition reviews will go smoothly, indeed..." An offer to help hangs off of the end, or perhaps the implication that he could have a hand in the process itself, but Sigma will not pay Tom charity. He must first be impressed: "I'd love to know what you had in mind..."

[pimpcanes]

"Oh? I must say, I don't have immediate plans to escape the Games, if only because I do enjoy a good sport."

Tom, of all the Tributes here, is one of the few who finds the entire thing aptly-named. Panem's strange rituals don't faze him at all; while they might be unusual for Earth, he's spent time in the Mojoverse, and the moral chaos of televised murderfests doesn't strike him as terrible strange. To tell the truth, he'd rather be out of Panem entirely, free from the restrictions and his truncated liberty, but until then he can't seem to manufacture the outrage that the other Tributes seem so fond of.

"I'm a terrorist, Dr. Klim. And to fight these rebel terrorists, the Capitol will need to know how someone of their kind thinks. Not to speak ill of the current Peacekeepers, but they've been relegated to damage control, and their tactics lack finesse. I could bring that to the fore."

An Avox measures the distance between his nose and his ear. Tom can only imagine what they'll need that number for.

"And you? Will you become a Gamemaker?"

[futilecycle]

That admission, though unsurprising, disappoints Sigma - but the Hunger Games could not go on forever. Perhaps as a Victor Tom's reputation could be of even greater use to him. Triumphant or not, the time would come for the man to choose his side.

If there were still a chance that Tom's character was not as rotten as it smelled, news of his occupation removes the last of Sigma's doubts. A knee-jerk reaction to the word, perhaps, but Sigma had borne witness to what Tom's kind were capable of. If wearing a mask had not become a state of being, he would not have been able to hide his contempt. "Is that right? That is proof enough to me that you were reaped with the crown in mind. ...I am certain that you will become a valuable asset to the Capitol, after these Games are made fair." He wonders how far Tom would be willing to go if his actions would give even Peacekeepers pause.

Assuredly, it would not be as wicked as a lifetime sending children to their deaths. "As for myself, I would hope to, but I believe such a honourable position is reserved for the native elite. Were I to assist with the Games, it would more than likely be as an engineer for the 'muttations'. But who can say? Perhaps an ex-Tribute can rise through the ranks... Time will tell." At least one of them was banking on it.

[pimpcanes]

"I've seen examples of Tributes being made into officers of the force here. It wouldn't be unheard of, although I imagine that there are certain positions here that are more...hereditary, than anything." Tom's never minded nepotism until it worked against him; after all, legacy got him into school back in the day, as well as inheriting an estate that included a castle and grounds.

"In fact, I'd be a little surprised if the Gamemakers' plans for us were entirely oriented at the Games. Especially given...your particular skillset. They must have brought you in with something in mind. It seems a waste otherwise."

And that rankles him, knowing that there's likely some puzzle piece he isn't privy too. Tom harbors a natural curiosity, and it's magnified ten-fold when it's related to people's opinions of, and plans for, him.

[futilecycle]

That comment derails Sigma's confidence somewhat. He had meant to lead Tom to believe that he had been selected to aid the Capitol, when truthfully, Sigma thought that was nonsense - if there were thought put into the Tribute roster, why would the Capitol bring forward likely revolutionaries? But for all his carefully planning, perhaps the Capitol were moves ahead, already leading him down the garden path. It would not be the first time he had been outplayed.

It takes the stylist surprising him with cold tape measure against his cheek to bring Sigma back to the conversation. These thoughts disturb him and Sigma must shelve them for now. "I hadn't considered that." It might be the first moment of honesty he's had with Tom. He manages a dismissive smirk, hoping to pass it off as humility. "If that is what they intend for me, I shall work harder to live up to my reputation. Should I end up in such a position, I may have your insight to thank."

[pimpcanes]

Tom doesn't believe humility when he sees it, and he certainly doesn't here. He may be arrogant to the point of foolishness, but he's also survived in the business a very long time, and that requires at least some belief that everyone is hiding talents up their sleeve.

"Don't say as much now, or I may come to call a favor at some point." He lifts his chin slightly, as if toasting Sigma with his expression alone. "People of our kind must stick together. The world is so hostile to a rational man."

ahaha I am so sorry.........

[futilecycle]

Sigma nods in return, acknowledging Tom's approval with his own. "Oh, Tom, were I in the position, I would consider it my duty to offer a favour to one such as yourself," he answers, "for exactly that reason." Realistically, Sigma knows he cannot come to use Black Tom without freely expending his own power and influence. Even if it meant doing something monstrous, it would be in both of their best interests to keep the other close at hand...

By now Sigma's stylist has backed away from the old man, jotting her findings into a small notebook and clicking her tongue critically. Sigma takes the opportunity to loosen up, stretching his neck and shoulders as his prep team decides whether or not they are done with him. He waits for a moment Tom has the freedom to move his arms, and then reaches out for a handshake. "I haven't yet had the opportunity, but I must say I am delighted to finally have met you. You are every bit the person I had hoped you were." So says Sigma, the pro-Capitol black sheep of the Tributes.

no worries!

[pimpcanes]

"Well, then." Tom preens a little - he's not immune to flattery, and it's been his undoing on more than one occasion. Tactics you can learn; a personal flaw is a little harder to undo, even with experience stacked against it. As he's finished being measured, he takes a step off the little platform.

"I appreciate the assessment, but I'm afraid I can't return the courtesy. I believe a first impression is helpful, but not dispositive." He smiles that knowing, clever smirk and shakes Sigma's hand. "Until we meet again, the best to you."

With a nod, the Stylist assistant releases him, and he leaves, walking a little taller despite the limp.

[OOC: going to work on the Arena thread a bit more before the interview!]