So when they said prison planet... [Open]

[hi_there_aliens]

Who| Daniel Jackson and you! [Open]
What| Daniel arrives at the Capitol, after thinking he and SG-1 were going to be sent off for "justice" after inadvertently aiding a criminal. This isn't what he expected. He begins to poke around.
Where| Close to the Tribute Training Center, wandering around outside.
When| Evening - he's arrived sometime after curfew is over.
Warnings/Notes| I'd like to avoid Daniel getting spoiled on the part where death isn't permanent in the Arena please.

It still hadn't quite set in. The horror that is, Daniel thought. He wandered out from the building that had been marked as a Training Center in a daze. The shock was probably stage one. Or was it denial? Both? He was definitely going for both right now.  Daniel was sure the sheer horror of it would eventually strike - it had to-  and hit him hard when it did, but he was still working on the part where the Taldor had made this their judgement for SG-1. Tributes, Districts, Hunger Games, gladiatorial combat. That's what you got for trespassing, carrying arms to defend yourself, and accidentally aiding a criminal. He hated to see what they did if you jaywalked. Maybe that was average prison material.

To think, all Daniel had been worried about this morning was whether Sha're would be on the other side of the gate this time, followed by getting Jack to see that the current planet might just have more to offer than trees and moss.

"And here I was expecting Botany Bay," he muttered under his breath. A woman strolled past Daniel. Her heels even gave that little click on the ground that seemed pretty universal; very classy, very smart it said. It was also the only familiarity about her. She was dressed to what he suspected was supposed to be to the nines in this place. It made his eyes want to tear up; orange, purple and green had no business mixing like that, topped off with a mix of feathers and fur.  Daniel looked around. No one else seemed to find it glaring; she looked as much at home as the other people wandering the pathways. She gave him a mildly interested look, but passed on. Certainly no criminal herself.

It was this that set off the chill that started to spread through his stomach.  This woman and people like her were going to  tune in and watch them die one by one. Only one could survive. He had no idea where the rest of SG-1 were; for all he knew, he'd ended up here alone.  Daniel licked at his lips nervously.  "I think I'd rather have the prison planet..."

Comments

[lassoftruthiness]

It wasn't difficult, picking out the Tributes stolen from their worlds out of the general Citizen population. This man stood out more than was usual for Diana's fellow captives, and she suspected he was new, perhaps even moreso than herself.

Either way, he looked a little like he was about to be ill and Diana moved forward with concern. "Are you alright?"

[vissernone]

It seems that after the incident in lockdown - where Eva, unfortunately, lost her cool and managed to come off as a borderline psychotic to an uncomfortably large number of tributes - Eva's energy is entirely spent. She's taken the last few days easy, mostly keeping to herself, reading and sitting in the backs of theaters and watching her Tributes train from afar. The explosive anger seems to have pulled some of the tension out of her, taking away some of the twitching, the lip-biting, the sleeplessness.

To actually believe that's the case would be a grave mistake. Eva's anger and her energy are not gone. They are locked up by her focus as she keeps an ear to the ground, waiting for news about the recent rebellion attack, pretending to care nothing for any of it while quietly parsing the information that comes to her. She knows she's not going to find her son, she really does, but nurturing that little sprig of hope deep down gives her fidgeting and her wrath somewhere constructive to go. Turned inwards, her demons sort among the mess of conflicting input.

And so here she is today, having come to the Training Center from some early hour in the morning and now stepping outside for some fresh air. She's dressed almost blandly for the Capitol, monochromatic. Only an arranged splash of green sequins across her eye socket and cheekbone like ivy growing up a foundation for her face, soft silk robes with a tassled belt tied at the waist and an open, deep back that displays some of the scars she got decades ago, some from the Arena and some from piecing her back together afterwards. Her jewelry and hair clip are all leaves and budding flowers.

She's staring out at the buildings of the Capitol as if she can see beyond them. The muscles around her eyes are tense as she searches and turns the images over in her mind. She leans her back against the wall, lips pursed, dragging her fingertips across the mirrored face of the building as if spitefully mucking it up.

She looks over when she hears someone talking - but not to her, to himself. Daniel's rounded the corner to the quieter side of the Training Center building.

"New in town, stranger?"

[orestes]

Wandering the capitol had become Enjolras' primary pass time in the days following his arrival. It didn't cost anything, and the chance to familiarize himself with the environment that sanctioned and condoned such a system was just too fascinating to pass up. He found himself watching their interactions with a rapt, if morbid, curiosity.

While Daniel focused on the gaudy woman (who, if he were paying closer attention, would've reminded Enjolras very much of a snotty bourgeois on her way to an afternoon show), Enjolras was focused a pair of men, probably around his age. They seemed like students to him and he questioned quietly to himself again how anyone who sought knowledge and enlightenment could just accept things as they were here. Disgusted, he turned from them. So deep was he in his thoughts that he barely noticed as he brushed passed the other tribute, stepping slightly too far into the other man's allotment of personal space to be politely ignored.

"Pardon." Enjolras' voice was low and still belied a lack of attention to his surroundings, his accent particularly noticeable due to his distraction. "I didn't notice you there."

[splendid_roman]

After lockdown Ian was more desperate to get out of the Training Center building, so he'd been walking around the city. However, it was a big place and he hadn't quite been paying attention to where he was going and now he wasn't sure where he was. "Excuse me," he said to the nearest person, "can you tell me the way to the Training Center?"

[danno_williams]

Danny watched the new guy from his spot against the wall. He might not be up to Sherlock's deductive powers but he can tell when someone's a fish out of water.

The guy wandered by and Danny quipped, "Is this where I say 'Welcome to hell, here's your accordion?"

"http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XmDxMlc7Agg/Tm-UypBOWiI/AAAAAAAAAxU/ZXaaytkuWJE/s1600/farsideaccordion.jpg"

[originalgaangster]

"I've been to prison. It's nicer than this." Sokka eases up next to Daniel, surveying the crowd and the garishly dressed citizens with obvious unease and distaste.

"At least there they didn't ooh and ahh over you before sending you out to fight to the death for them."

Hello fellow nerd

[polyturtle]

"...At least there's no Khan?"

Who was that saying that? Oh, it was just--a giant talking turtle. Hello. And apparently someone who the natives knew, judging by the way they gasped and pointed and tittered excitedly (Is that him? Ooh man, it really is!)