thecapitol | (Open)

Who: Apollo & Open
What: He has made a new discovery.
Where: District 4 suites -> Common Area.
When: Right now? Get yer butt in here.

Mortality doesn't suit him nor does he want it. However, as far as mortals go, he supposes he is lucky. His body is slender, flexible and healthy - aside from the new scar on his chest - and he can move in a way that almost mimics flight. The ache in his feet after a day of walking and exploring are the main reminders that he is not floating above the ground.

I am bound to gravity.

So be it. If a silly Prince like Ganymede could handle it, so could he. But there is one facet of his humanity that he has not given a voice. Flinging open the doors to the Common Area, he beams and changes history.

"The stars have all burnt out!" he crows, glee dancing in his eyes, "My hair is black and my eyes are red! I shall sprout horns in a matter of moments!"

Lie after lie pours from his lips and he spins himself in delight, laughing.

The gods can lie.

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Roland looks up from his spot on the couch, grimaces. Of course in this place with these people it's not impossible that the boy is about to start growing horns right here, but when, after a couple seconds of waiting, this fails to happen, Roland is not particularly surprised.

"Whatever you've taken is bound to wear off soon," he says, turning his attention back toward the yarn in his lap and nodding toward the kitchen. "Do you well to eat something before it does."

"Taken?" he scoffs over the assumption and plants himself on the back of the couch, perching like a bird, "They took me and made me what I am." a lowly, lying mortal, "I have never been able to lie."

And he knows the change has occurred because he tried - and succeeded - in saying something ridiculous earlier.

I am stronger than Zeus.

Apollo is well-aware that the sky god outranks him, so it makes sense that this too has changed about him.

There'd been another tribute a while ago, first arriving and asking questions. Roland had told him that each tribute's world had a different set of rules, and had thought to himself that this made it effectively impossible to really tell whether any of them had gone mad. Or, as Roland had first assumed, had lost touch with reality through less natural means.

Doesn't matter. Either way, Roland's done his bit. May as well take the other tribute at his word, even on the subject of lies. "Then lie 'til your heart's content," he says, not looking up and only half paying the boy any attention. "No one's around to stop you."

"Oh," a soft voice pipes up from the sitting area, halting and unsure, but not unfriendly. "That's...I don't know, is that good? If that's good, then...that's...good?"

The voice belongs to Charlie, sipping a cup of tea while relaxing on one of the comfy chairs. She may sound unsure, but she is at least smiling her pretty smile, body language calm and relatively unfazed.

Children learn quickly that doing something forbidden or risky will inevitably lead to punishment. Apollo has never had the benefit of that lesson, though the thrill of doing the previously impossible makes him feel a rush of giddy excitement. It's the same sort of giddiness children feel when they're just about to be "caught".

"There are no complications." his mood shifts and he slides down to rest on the cushioned seat, his legs crossed and his chin resting on his upturned hand, "As you said - I can lie to my heart's content."

But for what purpose? Why can mortals lie? Is it simply so they can argue with the gods? Or each other?

"Gods cannot tell lies. What we say inevitably becomes the truth."

It isn't "we" anymore, though.

"My words are merely words. They have no effect whatsoever." he frowns and glances at Roland, "Even if a mortal screams in agony, it doesn't give their words more power."

How morose.

"Do you think so?" Apollo preens, eyes sparkling with mischief, "Are you accustomed to telling lies?"

Social norms go right over his head - or he outright ignores them. Crossing his arms behind his back, he strides across the room and throws himself, elegantly, into the chair beside her.

At one point in his life Roland wouldn't have considered believing this. But after everything, even in the fuzzy, bewildering memories of that year before Panem, he thinks there were... oh, there were wonders -

Roland snorts to snap himself out of it, gives his head a quick shake. So he's going to believe this boy. Alright. "Hope you're not planning on testing that. Even a former god has to follow the rules here."

"Well, no, I'm familiar with the concept but I...try not to do it, myself."

Except for stage magic. That's really all kind of a fancy lie, if you really think about it. She blinks owlishly as he sits down, turning towards him and tucking her legs daintily underneath her.

"But you seem happy about it, so...I don't see the harm in acknowledging what you're saying?"

(Open)

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