thecapitol | (no subject)

Who| Signless, Gary, and anyone who needs a distraction!
What| Signless and Gary do what they do best: draw a crowd, so that nobody notices the actual important things going down.
Where| A Capitol park
When| Backdated to the day of the break-in
Warnings/Notes| Nothing in particular; will add if something comes up.

In one of the largest available Capitol parks a stage has been set up. It's festooned with colorful fabric, riddled with microphones and wires and lights, and surrounded on either side by stalls with food and drink (there are, of course, funnel cakes). Most of that was Gary's doing, but Signless deferred to him on the logic that Gary knew better how to do one of these things in public than he did. All of his experience was in keeping these things quiet and secret, which is the exact opposite of what they need to be doing.

Guests are invited to take a seat on the grass before the stage. First on the program is an 'authentic' troll sermon much like one of the ones the Signless would have given back on Alternia. It's billed as a way for those not familiar to participate in a piece of troll culture and history, though the subject is less radical rebellious philosophy (for very obvious reasons) and much more Capitol-appropriate and safe. He speaks for a good while, often inviting his listeners to contribute to the discussion, and after the sermon proper is finished there is a short question and answer session. True to his word it really does follow the same format one of his talks might have back on his native planet.

Of course not everyone is here to listen to a troll ramble in a park. For them there is the debut concert of Gary Epps which takes place after a short intermission so everyone can grab a funnel cake or a corn dog or two. The grass in front of the stage is now a makeshift dance floor and the guests are encouraged to let loose and enjoy the very, very loud and very, very upbeat music. It may be bubblegum for the ears but it's fun and the beat is good -- perfect for drowning out thoughts of why there are so very many parties all going on on this day in particular.

[This is going to be much like a crowning: a party-style post where you can put up top levels and tag around to others at any point during the festivities. Go ahead and mingle, and have some fun before everything crashes and burns! I'll be putting up a transcription of Signless's sermon shortly for characters to react to amongst themselves, and Gary will also of course be joining in!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Felicity has another delighted scream of teenaged glee queued up and ready to go when she's interupted, and so it comes out as a squawk that cuts off in a really, really surprised sound. "Whaaaaa?!" She spins partway about just as her finger comes down on the camera's shutter button, and off goes the flash.

"Oh!" She immediately realizes what she has done, which is probably blind the poor guy that was just asking questions. "Oh, oh, oh, oh! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

This is probably only serving to make things even more confusing.

He jumped as far back as he was able, smacking into the person behind him. Fire! Fire, fire! Spots dancing in his eyes, he looked for more dangerous sparks, but that flash had been it. If she hadn't immediately apologized, he would have suspected she was trying to attack him and tackled her accordingly.

"You are using a fire starter in a crowd??"

Now he was as livid as the fire he imagined, feathers definitely ruffled.

"What? What? Woah! What?! No! No no no!" This situation sure was escalating rapidly. Where the heck was he getting an idea like that? Firestarter? His anger is pretty damn intimidating, though, and she recoils and clutches her camera close to her chest.

"Nothing's on fire! That was just a flash! Just a camera flash!" Her eyes dart this way and that at the other people in the crowd, hoping someone will stick up for her. Mostly they're ignoring the whole mess, though. Getting involved in other people's fights is awkward.

"I already know of cameras." He was foreign, not dumb, he wanted to insist. The amount of times people looked impatient or pitying infuriated him. "They do not start fires." He pointed an accusing finger at her device, but all his instincts showed him was that she was a confused young woman who meant no harm.

"Are you signaling someone?" he continued peevishly. Flashing bits of metal or starting fires could be used for messages, but why would she do that in a crowd...?

He was foreign and ignorant, or at least that was the impression that Felicity is getting. Which is not the same as dumb, and which makes her inclined to stick around and try to explain what's going on. So though she's cringing and holding her things tightly and trying to make herself look small and inoffensive, she's still got things to say. "It's to better light up the picture! A camera needs enough light if it wants a really clear picture, so... so it has a flash on it, that goes off at just the right time so the picture looks the best! I can show you, I can..." And she's absently looking down and flicking through the previous images on the viewscreen... but the first one is Altair's startled face, and despite the seriousness of the situation, she lets out a giggling snort.

"What is so funny?"

He scowled and shuffled over to see what she claimed to show him. His first thought was that she had literally captured him and placed him in the camera.... but that was stupid. He was here, alive and certainly not captured, at least not by the likes of her. His dark eyebrows flew up.

"It--it is a painting. Of me. With 'flash.'"

He understood now. This was how the plethora of perfect images around the Capitol was created. The cameras not only watched, but also painted. Recorded. This did not bode well for sneaky types like him. He felt uneasy the more people collected his image. His captors knowing his every move was bad enough. And anyway, this picture of his surprise was embarrassing. That was not how an assassin was supposed to look.

"Burn it."

"Mmhmm! It is!" She sounds a little proud, a little glad to be able to show off some technology to someone that's not at all familiar to it. That doesn't last long, given what he's demanding that she do.

"Wh... hey, it's not a great picture, but...!" She'd sort of hoped to save it, it was so funny, but people get sensitive about this kind of thing. She holds up a hand and grimaces, going "Wait, wait, just wait..." while operating the camera's controls with one hand. Beep, beep, bweep, and.... "Done! It's gone! I erased it! See?" And she holds the screen out again for him to see, browsing through all the other pictures that she has taken. None of them have Altair in them.

He leaned closer to look at his picture suddenly disappearing from the screen.

Photo deleted.

Even more surprising, baffling, and fascinating was the way she cycled through the rest. They were obviously in some chronological order, and told the story of her press through the crowd and fascination with the gaudy singer onstage.

"They're so clear..." he murmured, voice nearly lost in the noise of the crowd. "Nothing like a painting. Are all small cameras like this?" If so, the ones hidden in the walls confirmed his worst fears. They might even be able to see what someone was writing.

He seems interested in all that scrolling through the pictures, so she keeps on scrolling. It winds up being a reverse chronological story of her day, with snaps of interesting street scenes from the Capitol, of people trying on costumes, of a wide meeting hall in various stages of decoration and setup, of a breakfast of poached eggs on toast with cute little slices of avocado on the side...

"Not all of them. This is a pretty good one. Pretty new! There are ones where stuff looks a lot less sharp. Cheaper ones. I used to have a teeny tiny black and white one back..." And then she laughs to redirect the conversation from where that was going. The ancient little mini-tablet-with-camera that Uncle Torin had gifted her a few years back had been amazing at the time... but it was a junky old toy in comparison to what she held in her hands now. She was so lucky.

The scrolling made him slightly dizzy. He stared at the photos with a growing apprehension. (Also, what the hell was avocado?) He tried to follow her rambling about camera quality and was slightly lost.

"I assume the Capitol would spare no expense either? The best cameras... to capture Tribute moments for their glossy books?"

Totally asking about magazines and not government surveillance.

"Oh! Oh, yes, absolutely! Even better than this, probably!" Felicity is probably not answering the question correctly. For he's talking about 'glossy books', and magazine photography is its own thing entirely.

"Aaah, so they haven't gotten you in for a photoshoot, yet?" And she makes a teasing little face, pursing her lips. "You are a Tribute, aren't you? What's your name? What's your District?"

He stared at her.

"...Shooting? No, they haven't... shot me."

The only shooting he was familiar with was with bows and arrows. This was all very ominous. Of course the military government would have better cameras. He should have known.

"I am Altaïr," he said stiffly. Teasing he was familiar with, but he wasn't used to giving his name to strangers. He remembered that privacy meant little here. They wanted him to be an athletic celebrity. "They have assigned me to District 11. Agriculture." At least he retained what little information he had well.

(no subject)

as long as you're alright with a late tag-back!

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