Tiffany Doggett (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tucky) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2015-04-26 01:05 pm
tucky) wrote in thecapitol2015-04-26 01:05 pm
[open]
Who| Tiffany Doggett AND YOU
What| A smalltown jailbird arrives in the Capitol and immediately decides that it's the best place ever
Where| Various places; scenarios under cuts
When| Some vague nebulous time after the latest plot; can take place over a few days if needed
Warnings/Notes| If you haven't already, please take a look at her permissions post before tagging her so I know what you are and aren't comfortable with! Other than that, nothing (yet - it's always yet with her)
A: District 1 suite, Part I
If you're going to be unceremoniously pulled from your prison block with no warning and not much explanation, there are definitely worse places you could be landed. This place is insane - everything in it is more lavish and luxurious than anything she's seen in pictures or on TV, let alone in real life. It's at least a couple hours before she even considers leaving her suite - she's too busy trying everything out. She tests out her big, soft bed (which she can't resist bouncing on like a child for a minute or two), she takes a shower followed by a long, hot bath, she raids the fridge, she checks out the view from the deck. If something is available to be examined, turned on, or tried out, she does it.
Honestly, she had kind of glossed over the whole "battle to the death" thing. Forced death matches simply aren't a part of reality as she knows it, and until the idea is shoved in her face a little more, it's just not something she's going to think about at all. As far as she's concerned, this place is heaven. The Capitol has already begun to win her allegiance.
B: The streets of the Capitol
Tiffany finally leaves the Training Center, after being reassured (more than once) that this is her home now and she'll be able to come back whenever she wants. There's nowhere in particular that she's looking to go, but that's fine with her - she'll wander. She's bound to come across something or someone interesting eventually.
C: The Districts shopping center
Handed a credit card and set loose in a city, it's unsurprising that Tiffany finds her way to a mall. Not really one for thinking ahead that much, she immediately starts buying things - clothes mostly, but also earrings, bracelets, and makeup. It's only after an hour or two that she starts wondering if she's going to hit a credit limit, or be dealing with bills later. She looks around for people with similar-looking cards; when she finds someone, she stops them and holds up her own.
"Hey. How much is on this thing?"
D: Various clubs and bars (The Speakeasy, .infinity, Anomaly, The Cave, or Tesserae)
After gussying herself up at the shopping center, Tiffany eventually discovers the Capitol nightlife, and the rest is history. She bounces from place to place, skipping the sit-down restaurants but hitting all the clubs and bars, sometimes more than once. Affiliation means nothing to her at this point; any rebellion-minded talk at places like The Speakeasy mostly just goes over her head. She's shed her prison clothes and dressed herself to the nines (though she still looks pretty tame in comparison to most Capitol fashion), accessorizing with jewelry, shimmery makeup, and lightly-styled hair (nothing too fancy, but infinitely better than the untreated, unbrushed 'do she often sported in prison). She's a little underdressed for the fancier places and a little overdressed for the dive bars, but she doesn't seem to care. She'll have the time of her life - dancing, drinking, and occasionally chatting up men. She's not used to looking good, or feeling good about her appearance. The fact that she does now puts her in an amazing mood.
E: District 1 suite, Part II
Somewhere along the line, someone had slipped her some tapes of past Games - either out of a genuine desire to help, or because they'd pegged her as someone who'd be easily spooked and wanted to psych her out. She should familiarize herself with these, they'd said, because she'd be going into the arena herself soon enough. So later, tired out from her night on the town, she remembers the tapes and pulls them out, flopping down on the common room couch to watch.
And it's... terrifying. She watches intently, leaning forward, eyes wide. It's like a horror movie she can't look away from. She's killed before, and she's threatened, and she's gotten into her fair share of fights - but this is a whole new ball game. Can she really do this? Is she really going to be expected to do this? She doesn't want to die, but looking at the fighting skills of some of these people... there's no way, she thinks, that she would stand a chance.
She'll have to ask someone about it later; someone in charge. They've been helpful so far. Surely they'll continue to be.
What| A smalltown jailbird arrives in the Capitol and immediately decides that it's the best place ever
Where| Various places; scenarios under cuts
When| Some vague nebulous time after the latest plot; can take place over a few days if needed
Warnings/Notes| If you haven't already, please take a look at her permissions post before tagging her so I know what you are and aren't comfortable with! Other than that, nothing (yet - it's always yet with her)
A: District 1 suite, Part I
If you're going to be unceremoniously pulled from your prison block with no warning and not much explanation, there are definitely worse places you could be landed. This place is insane - everything in it is more lavish and luxurious than anything she's seen in pictures or on TV, let alone in real life. It's at least a couple hours before she even considers leaving her suite - she's too busy trying everything out. She tests out her big, soft bed (which she can't resist bouncing on like a child for a minute or two), she takes a shower followed by a long, hot bath, she raids the fridge, she checks out the view from the deck. If something is available to be examined, turned on, or tried out, she does it.
Honestly, she had kind of glossed over the whole "battle to the death" thing. Forced death matches simply aren't a part of reality as she knows it, and until the idea is shoved in her face a little more, it's just not something she's going to think about at all. As far as she's concerned, this place is heaven. The Capitol has already begun to win her allegiance.
B: The streets of the Capitol
Tiffany finally leaves the Training Center, after being reassured (more than once) that this is her home now and she'll be able to come back whenever she wants. There's nowhere in particular that she's looking to go, but that's fine with her - she'll wander. She's bound to come across something or someone interesting eventually.
C: The Districts shopping center
Handed a credit card and set loose in a city, it's unsurprising that Tiffany finds her way to a mall. Not really one for thinking ahead that much, she immediately starts buying things - clothes mostly, but also earrings, bracelets, and makeup. It's only after an hour or two that she starts wondering if she's going to hit a credit limit, or be dealing with bills later. She looks around for people with similar-looking cards; when she finds someone, she stops them and holds up her own.
"Hey. How much is on this thing?"
D: Various clubs and bars (The Speakeasy, .infinity, Anomaly, The Cave, or Tesserae)
After gussying herself up at the shopping center, Tiffany eventually discovers the Capitol nightlife, and the rest is history. She bounces from place to place, skipping the sit-down restaurants but hitting all the clubs and bars, sometimes more than once. Affiliation means nothing to her at this point; any rebellion-minded talk at places like The Speakeasy mostly just goes over her head. She's shed her prison clothes and dressed herself to the nines (though she still looks pretty tame in comparison to most Capitol fashion), accessorizing with jewelry, shimmery makeup, and lightly-styled hair (nothing too fancy, but infinitely better than the untreated, unbrushed 'do she often sported in prison). She's a little underdressed for the fancier places and a little overdressed for the dive bars, but she doesn't seem to care. She'll have the time of her life - dancing, drinking, and occasionally chatting up men. She's not used to looking good, or feeling good about her appearance. The fact that she does now puts her in an amazing mood.
E: District 1 suite, Part II
Somewhere along the line, someone had slipped her some tapes of past Games - either out of a genuine desire to help, or because they'd pegged her as someone who'd be easily spooked and wanted to psych her out. She should familiarize herself with these, they'd said, because she'd be going into the arena herself soon enough. So later, tired out from her night on the town, she remembers the tapes and pulls them out, flopping down on the common room couch to watch.
And it's... terrifying. She watches intently, leaning forward, eyes wide. It's like a horror movie she can't look away from. She's killed before, and she's threatened, and she's gotten into her fair share of fights - but this is a whole new ball game. Can she really do this? Is she really going to be expected to do this? She doesn't want to die, but looking at the fighting skills of some of these people... there's no way, she thinks, that she would stand a chance.
She'll have to ask someone about it later; someone in charge. They've been helpful so far. Surely they'll continue to be.
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"Come on, we're getting out. Find a spot with two chairs and I'll explain, because no, it's not like dying on the operating table." He shoos her off, and if she'll go he'll limp on after at a slower rate.
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general descriptions of violent deaths
"I'll explain it like this. When I first showed up, it was at the beginning of this thing called a mini-arena. They stuffed me in the outfit, gave me barely any explanation, and shot me up into the arena in time for the countdown. They're different from the normal kind: they're shorter and have a theme, and the one I went through had no Cornucopia. Instead there was this big obstacle course we went through, and on this part with a mix of rope ladders and bridges, after dodging falling slime and failing to fall into the acid beneath us, I finally got killed by an animatronic bear ripping me apart. When I came back, all my limbs were back where they were supposed to be."
He speaks with the kind of deliberate, steady tone of someone who's had time to accept all what happened. It's been months for him, and it was quick enough that it didn't even prepare him for the main deal.
"The next time was a regular arena, space-themed, and I made it up until the end when the station collapsed on everyone still alive but for someone who had managed to find this special safe room. I was crushed to death, but I came back with everything in its place with no sign it ever got crushed.
"After that, there was this party called a Crowning to celebrate the victor. My stylist made me get tattoos for it, and directly after the party we got sent to the next arena and I had them the whole time. Eventually, a friend and I died fighting a giant cat with fangs these long." He holds his hands up to show the size. It's a smilodon he's describing, he but doesn't know the word.
"After that, I went back to my own world, got stabbed through the chest twice, fell into some lava below me, died, and came back here again. No burns, no marks on my neck, no tattoos, no nothing.
"You die every time," he intones, "and then they bring you back to do it again."
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"How?"
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"I don't know," he says after a moment. "How do you think they bring in people from several disparate, incompatible universes? Earth is gone where I'm from; there's only eight--" He pauses. "It was eight, now I don't know--humans left alive in reality, but there's more here than I can count. They take away powers, they make it so we literally can't speak or write anything but English, and they put us through the arenas so we can entertain the citizenry. I don't know how they make us live again, because it doesn't work like where I come from, and I have no extra lives left there either."
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"The citizenry - they the ones who think we're celebrities? They like watching us?" Because that still sounds like a really great deal to her.
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"Well good for you. If you want to go out and die and kill, then they'll swoon at your feet and squeal for the chance to say hi. It's what we're here for," he says, with the air of someone who wishes he wasn't but can't do a damn thing about it.
"You got any other questions or is that it?"
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And with that, he'll limp back to the elevator.