Dr. S. Klim (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
futilecycle) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2015-05-25 12:02 pm
futilecycle) wrote in thecapitol2015-05-25 12:02 pm
Entry tags:
[OPEN] Nothing's going to separate us now
WHO | Sigma and YOU!
WHAT | A Gamemaker has one last night on the town before his schedule is filled.
WHEN | The night before Tributes are transported to the Arena.
WHERE | About the Capitol.
WARNINGS/NOTES | PM me if you'd like your own prompt in the comments. In several prompts, Sigma is without peacekeepers. If you plan to have your character do anything violent, run it by me first!
Dusk fell on the final day before Sigma's first Arena as a Gamemaker. As the last of the sunlight disappeared over the mountains, he and his fellow Gamemakers drank to their health before going home for their last peaceful evening. The expensive champagne Plutarch uncorked was unlike anything Sigma had ever had the opportunity to taste, but it did not go down easy - as Sigma sips at his flute he realizes that he can afford any luxury he desires except freedom.
He was exhausted over the constant surveillance, tired of filtering out the people 'beneath' him with computers and force fields. At the celebration's conclusion, Sigma wraps his dress coat around his shoulders and takes the elevator down, instructing the peacekeepers that they need not accompany him - he will go straight home.
Instead, knowing he may well live to regret it, Sigma steps out into the night alone.
A - The park
If there was one thing Sigma loved about the Capitol, it was what remained of its natural environment. Having spent most of his life locked in a steel cell, to feel his boots dig into fresh grass and wet mud was an unbelievable - and almost forgotten - feeling.
He wades through the darkness of the park, pensive and safe from the feverish pace of the city. As the Gamemaker reaches the riverbed, he removes his gloves and runs his hand over the bark of a tree, watching the light of one million superstructures diffuse off of the black ribbon of water. It was almost dark enough to see stars. Not far downstream there was a bench at the edge of the park where a troll and his father had once spoken, ashing burned pages of military blueprints into the rocks beneath their feat.
It was not so long ago, actually. Not so long ago, at all...
B - Training Center Lobby Bar
It was not so much a part of his job as a part of his citizenship to make himself well liked by fellow Capitolites. At the moment, anybody who was anyone was living it up in the lounge, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Tributes on their last days of training. Now Sigma settles into the bar, bearing a secret, the only man in the room who knew what tomorrow would bring. Where he used to be no more than a shadow he is now practically magnetic - Capitolites and press begin to pester him, though he says little and drinks much, the occasional smile and nod inserted where necessary. The secret of the Arena is safe with him.
With Quintus' exceptional security, he knows he will be safe if he chooses to bide his time here. Yet fifteen minutes into the first round of drinks and he's looking for an excuse to bolt, waiting for any reason at all to remove himself from this insatiable crowd of vultures.
C - Anywhere within reason
It's much easier to blend into the city street without his Peacekeepers. Should he keep his head down, he was just another old man in the Capitol, an undesirable in a city where youth and beauty were the products of wealth. Months ago he could still take his daily walk unnoticed, practically a nobody after losing his celebrity status. Now blending in had become an art. He does not go so far as to conceal his face, but after his uncomfortable experience in the lounge, he makes certain not to attract attention where he can avoid it.
Yet in a city as alive and buzzing with tension as the Capitol, he was bound to be recognized eventually.
WHAT | A Gamemaker has one last night on the town before his schedule is filled.
WHEN | The night before Tributes are transported to the Arena.
WHERE | About the Capitol.
WARNINGS/NOTES | PM me if you'd like your own prompt in the comments. In several prompts, Sigma is without peacekeepers. If you plan to have your character do anything violent, run it by me first!
Dusk fell on the final day before Sigma's first Arena as a Gamemaker. As the last of the sunlight disappeared over the mountains, he and his fellow Gamemakers drank to their health before going home for their last peaceful evening. The expensive champagne Plutarch uncorked was unlike anything Sigma had ever had the opportunity to taste, but it did not go down easy - as Sigma sips at his flute he realizes that he can afford any luxury he desires except freedom.
He was exhausted over the constant surveillance, tired of filtering out the people 'beneath' him with computers and force fields. At the celebration's conclusion, Sigma wraps his dress coat around his shoulders and takes the elevator down, instructing the peacekeepers that they need not accompany him - he will go straight home.
Instead, knowing he may well live to regret it, Sigma steps out into the night alone.
A - The park
If there was one thing Sigma loved about the Capitol, it was what remained of its natural environment. Having spent most of his life locked in a steel cell, to feel his boots dig into fresh grass and wet mud was an unbelievable - and almost forgotten - feeling.
He wades through the darkness of the park, pensive and safe from the feverish pace of the city. As the Gamemaker reaches the riverbed, he removes his gloves and runs his hand over the bark of a tree, watching the light of one million superstructures diffuse off of the black ribbon of water. It was almost dark enough to see stars. Not far downstream there was a bench at the edge of the park where a troll and his father had once spoken, ashing burned pages of military blueprints into the rocks beneath their feat.
It was not so long ago, actually. Not so long ago, at all...
B - Training Center Lobby Bar
It was not so much a part of his job as a part of his citizenship to make himself well liked by fellow Capitolites. At the moment, anybody who was anyone was living it up in the lounge, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Tributes on their last days of training. Now Sigma settles into the bar, bearing a secret, the only man in the room who knew what tomorrow would bring. Where he used to be no more than a shadow he is now practically magnetic - Capitolites and press begin to pester him, though he says little and drinks much, the occasional smile and nod inserted where necessary. The secret of the Arena is safe with him.
With Quintus' exceptional security, he knows he will be safe if he chooses to bide his time here. Yet fifteen minutes into the first round of drinks and he's looking for an excuse to bolt, waiting for any reason at all to remove himself from this insatiable crowd of vultures.
C - Anywhere within reason
It's much easier to blend into the city street without his Peacekeepers. Should he keep his head down, he was just another old man in the Capitol, an undesirable in a city where youth and beauty were the products of wealth. Months ago he could still take his daily walk unnoticed, practically a nobody after losing his celebrity status. Now blending in had become an art. He does not go so far as to conceal his face, but after his uncomfortable experience in the lounge, he makes certain not to attract attention where he can avoid it.
Yet in a city as alive and buzzing with tension as the Capitol, he was bound to be recognized eventually.