The Signless (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
69problems) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2015-07-21 10:05 pm
69problems) wrote in thecapitol2015-07-21 10:05 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
WHO | Signless and YOU, with a special prompt for Bayard and Psii
WHAT | Dealing with the fallout of the Capitol revoking everyone's credit lines
WHERE | D12 suites/out and about in the Capitol
WHEN | Nowish
WARNINGS | Definitely discussion of slavery in the closed prompt
A. OPEN | D12
It doesn't take a genius to realize that tributes who suddenly have no source of income are going to find it far harder to get basic things like food. Signless, however, is no longer a tribute: he's a Mentor, and that affords him a decent (if not cushy) salary. Even if he can't help his tributes hone their combat skills, he can most certainly make sure they go into the arena healthy instead of starved.
To that end he's made it his mission to stock the District 12 kitchen. While he can guess at basics (tea, coffee, sugar, bread, fruit), he's well-aware that he doesn't know the tastes of his districtmates nearly so well as they do. Anyone who wanders into the kitchen can find him pinning a pad of paper onto the fridge with 'Grocery Requests' written at the top in careful print. His current plan is to restock things either every other week or as soon as the paper is reasonably full, but that's assuming the idea takes off in the first place.
B. OPEN | CAPITOL SHOPS
While he waits for someone to make use of his list, he decides to go on a preliminary run to at least stock up the kitchen a little. He wanders between shops: a few loaves of different kinds of bread here, a bag of apples and a bag of pears there. Soon he has a small but respectable collection of bags.
Particularly of interest to him is coffee. It took him quite a while to get started drinking it, but thanks to Bayard he's started having it more than once every few weeks. Tea was easy to buy -- tea he was familiar with. By contrast he knows next to nothing about coffee; he's just been making whatever was already available in the kitchen in Twelve and trusting it would be good.
"What is everyone most likely to like..." he murmurs to himself, inspecting bags of coffee beans with a furrowed brow. Dark? Medium? Medium, probably, but then there's so many flavors... he probably needs a second opinion.
"Do you know anything about coffee?" he asks the person nearest him. Chances are they know more than he does.
C. FOR BAYARD AND PSII | ICE CREAM SHOP
When Signless stepped out of the tribute tower today he'd assumed it would be a fairly uneventful outing. Now, sitting at a table in an ice cream parlor between a very annoyed Psiioniic and a bloody-lipped Bayard Sartoris, he's wondering where things went so very wrong. He picks at his rose-flavored ice cream and looks between them with a wary expression. There has to be a way to say 'why did I walk into this establishment to find you punching a small child in the face' that isn't quite so... accusatory. Even the Psiioniic is usually better with his temper than that, so Bayard must have said something that really hit a nerve.
"Is your lip feeling a little better, Bayard?" is what he finally asks. He doesn't want to prod Psii for information before he's absolutely sure it won't prompt another blowup. Much as he cares for the other troll, he's well-aware of how difficult he can be when he's angry.
WHAT | Dealing with the fallout of the Capitol revoking everyone's credit lines
WHERE | D12 suites/out and about in the Capitol
WHEN | Nowish
WARNINGS | Definitely discussion of slavery in the closed prompt
A. OPEN | D12
It doesn't take a genius to realize that tributes who suddenly have no source of income are going to find it far harder to get basic things like food. Signless, however, is no longer a tribute: he's a Mentor, and that affords him a decent (if not cushy) salary. Even if he can't help his tributes hone their combat skills, he can most certainly make sure they go into the arena healthy instead of starved.
To that end he's made it his mission to stock the District 12 kitchen. While he can guess at basics (tea, coffee, sugar, bread, fruit), he's well-aware that he doesn't know the tastes of his districtmates nearly so well as they do. Anyone who wanders into the kitchen can find him pinning a pad of paper onto the fridge with 'Grocery Requests' written at the top in careful print. His current plan is to restock things either every other week or as soon as the paper is reasonably full, but that's assuming the idea takes off in the first place.
B. OPEN | CAPITOL SHOPS
While he waits for someone to make use of his list, he decides to go on a preliminary run to at least stock up the kitchen a little. He wanders between shops: a few loaves of different kinds of bread here, a bag of apples and a bag of pears there. Soon he has a small but respectable collection of bags.
Particularly of interest to him is coffee. It took him quite a while to get started drinking it, but thanks to Bayard he's started having it more than once every few weeks. Tea was easy to buy -- tea he was familiar with. By contrast he knows next to nothing about coffee; he's just been making whatever was already available in the kitchen in Twelve and trusting it would be good.
"What is everyone most likely to like..." he murmurs to himself, inspecting bags of coffee beans with a furrowed brow. Dark? Medium? Medium, probably, but then there's so many flavors... he probably needs a second opinion.
"Do you know anything about coffee?" he asks the person nearest him. Chances are they know more than he does.
C. FOR BAYARD AND PSII | ICE CREAM SHOP
When Signless stepped out of the tribute tower today he'd assumed it would be a fairly uneventful outing. Now, sitting at a table in an ice cream parlor between a very annoyed Psiioniic and a bloody-lipped Bayard Sartoris, he's wondering where things went so very wrong. He picks at his rose-flavored ice cream and looks between them with a wary expression. There has to be a way to say 'why did I walk into this establishment to find you punching a small child in the face' that isn't quite so... accusatory. Even the Psiioniic is usually better with his temper than that, so Bayard must have said something that really hit a nerve.
"Is your lip feeling a little better, Bayard?" is what he finally asks. He doesn't want to prod Psii for information before he's absolutely sure it won't prompt another blowup. Much as he cares for the other troll, he's well-aware of how difficult he can be when he's angry.
no subject
That's one of the few concrete good things the Neverending Quell has done, he thinks. It's given the people of the Districts a respite from the fear and torture they've had to endure since the Games started-- at least in some aspects (District Three, a smoking hole in the ground now, comes to mind).
no subject
Even if the last visit had been depressing, it had given her another thing to fight for.
"Is there a word for finding a bit of good in a bunch of bad stuff? It feels like there should be a word for that."
no subject
He can't imagine how that would feel, having to go and actually see the wreckage. He knows if it was Twelve it would absolutely wreck him to have to see it.
"I think there must be, but I can't for the life of me think of it. I know what you mean, though. Being able to do that isn't required here, but it helps a good deal."
no subject
"Where do you suppose all the good technology is coming from now that three is gone?" She added, bringing up a question that so far no one had been able to answer for her. She hadn't gotten up the nerve to ask her teacher yet on the grounds that she didn't expect an honest answer.
no subject
"That... is a good question. Perhaps other districts picked up the slack? Though few of them seem equipped for it... or they could be manufacturing it somewhere here in the Capitol."
But where? Surely there would be some factory, if that were the case? Technology on the scale Panem uses can't be made in boutiques.
I love that expression in his icon XD
"So maybe they just...use that group."
And clearly the technology in each arena had not fallen short since the destruction of District Three. They were as impossibly devious as ever.
"New questions every day." She mused finishing off her fruit and placing the core in the trash can. She's not one to make too much of a mess for the Avox if she can avoid it most days.
it is one of my favorites
"That's a good point about the arenas. I've noticed they often show off technology they'll use in the next arena at crownings as something of a test-run; remember the holograms at Maximus's crowning? Remember how they appeared again in the jungle? Somewhere here in the Capitol they must have a place for arena-specific engineering."
no subject
"How have I not noticed that till now!? You know how many dumb crownings I've gone to?!"
Well given that he knew how many arenas she'd been in he could probably guess.
"OK great so...so what did they have at the last crowning? Lots of plants...those stupid sticks that shot water from them..." Sandy had won a "Authentic Shillelagh that had fake fire that could glow on it's tip. She shook her head "No wait...that's not the point. You're right they would have to keep that stuff closer to headquarters wouldn't they? I mean...remember when those Muttations escaped?" She paused and added "Wait were you around for that?"
no subject
He never saw a xenomorph up close, but it wasn't exactly difficult to put two and two together. The xenomutts in the arena he won were obviously smaller, tamer versions of the muttations that had escaped into the Capitol sewers so long ago.
no subject
"They had escaped into the city so they let some of us who volunteered go after them. I only went because Pruna was going and we wanted to get those tracking cuffs off our wrists. Then one of the things got on my face and put something in my stomach. It burst out and I almost died."
She unconsciously fingered the place on her shirt where a scar was hidden. One of only a few scars that dying and waking back up in the capitol didn't get rid of.
"I wasn't as strong back then. If I hadn't gotten killed on day one of that arena in space I might have been better off against them this time."
no subject
"I stayed behind to heal those who were injured in the fight and we heard about what was happening underground in bits and pieces. They made them a little less big and dangerous for the arena. You probably would have had no trouble with them at all."
no subject
"People always write off healers as being weak. But I've learned enough first aid by now to know it's harder then it looks. Especially when it's people you care about. So I dunno if anyone thanked you back then, but thanks for doing it." In a way she liked to imagine he was the one that saved her from death back then but that wasn't possible. He'd have remembered it.
"Is yours like...manual healing or magic?"
no subject
A little sheepishly, he holds up one hand to show her the thin pale scar across the palm.
"When we were given new scores, all I could think to do was demonstrate my knowledge of plants and which ones could be used to make a healing salve. There's probably something poetic in that, that the only permanent scar I've earned here was self-inflicted."
But it had worked, hadn't it? They'd moved him up a whole number, probably because they'd figured a man who'd willingly injure himself just to prove a point was dangerous or stupid enough to do anything.
no subject
"Oh well, if they still don't think I'm dangerous that's there problem I guess."
no subject
That may not be strictly true. The scoring process is an esoteric one and one that of course he isn't privy to. But even he thinks that a five is low for Sandy. He's seen her in every arena since he arrived two and a half years ago, he'd like to think he has a good working knowledge of her ability.
"The next arena isn't too far away. You'll have a good chance to prove them wrong then."
no subject
"Well it hasn't stopped me from getting sponsorship so maybe you're right." If nothing else sponsors had pulled her through more tough scrapes then she could count.
"Maybe this will be the one. The last one." It had an ominous sort sound to it, because that could mean one of two things.
no subject
"We've had a good track record lately. We made it far last arena, and we won two before that. I think you have a very good chance between your skill and how interested sponsors will be in us still, riding on that winning streak and the desire to see if we can start it up again."
And /end <3