Miss Gritta (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shiningeyes) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2015-08-10 03:03 am
shiningeyes) wrote in thecapitol2015-08-10 03:03 am
Entry tags:
So Heavy In Your Arms
Who| Miss Gritta and you? (open prompts abound!)
What| The large purple princess has finished adjusting. Now she has to plan and prepare. And learn to handle the kind of psychological aggression that the Capitol has at the ready.
Where| Training Center, around the Capitol, and the District 7 suites.
When| After the credit card cutoff, before the mini-arena
Warnings/Notes| n/a, will update if needed
Around the Capitol
If it wasn't one thing here, it was another, Gritta was coming to learn. The constant alarming events and bad news made her long for the comparative stability of the Castle Terminal and the petty political bickering of Shadow Royalty. At least there, she was guaranteed to be both properly fed and treated with respect. But if it was to be sink or swim, she would swim. She would swim as hard as she could. Jason Compson had somehow proposed that she star in a children's show, of all things... but it wasn't all that bad, once she found herself in the studio and reciting morality lessons and signging songs with puppets. It hadn't gone to broadcast yet, but she was still compensated for her work, and that was what mattered. Couple that with an endorsement contract for decorative nail decals and she no longer had to panic about where her next meal was coming from.
For instance, her current meal was coming from this lovely cafe, where she was seated in the sunlight. Did sandwiches taste better in the sunshine? Was coffee more pleasant on a sunny day? She'd have to answer that one with a 'yes'. Zed's fixation with the wonders of the light made far better sense, now. Sitting here, right in this moment, things feel good. The darkness of this city was far away, as was the fear of pain and terror in an arena. She was a free young woman, earning her own way, answering only to herself. At least for the moment. She'll savor it, just as she savors her lunch. Down goes the last triangle of club sandwich, and as she chews, she considers ordering another. The only thing that would make the moment better would be company.
Training Center
The fear of pain and terror in the arena was, on the other hand, far closer when back in the Tribute Tower and put to work in the training center. Her protests did very little to prevent it from coming to this, dressed in dull monster-sized workout gear and made to run laps. The trainers had assessed her as ploddingly slow, and far too timid to make much use of any of the weapons, but they could at least work on her endurance. It is only the very sturdy construction of the training center that keeps the ground from shaking with her every footfall. It has only been one lap and a half and she is panting, miserable, and desperately wanting to stop, but they said they wanted five out of her before she'd be free to go, so she is going to try her very hardest to manage that. To fail would be unthinkable. She'll succeed out of spite, if nothing else.
She's at risk for plowing into someone, but at least she's not moving very fast. It likely won't hurt much.
District 7 Suites, post-exposé
It had been a quiet evening in the District 7 suites, and Gritta had been content to rest her sore limbs and watch a little television. She had even popped some of the popcorn she had purchased with her own money, and set it out for others to share. Let no one call her greedy and thoughtless. She's happy to chat with anyone that comes by or sits down or passes through, if they seem amenable to it. It's important to get to know as many people here as possible. She's still working out who would be an ally and who would be an enemy.
But popcorn and pleasant company is forgotten when the current show ends and a new exposé starts up. It's about her and Zed. Whatever minor fascination she feels about being the sudden center of attention shrivels and dies and becomes horrified can't-look-away shock once it really gets going. It paints her as a scheming villain, and Zed as a love-struck innocent. And the things it implies about her and General Schwarz...
To her credit, she makes it to the end of the broadcast before raising from her seat and fleeing for the safety of her room. She slams the door shut, crumples into a heap, and weeps noisily. It's all wrong, every bit of it. And now everyone will see her that way. Everyone will know the most private parts of her life, twisted up all horribly.
She'll be better come morning, probably. But for now, she's a mess, and needs to work through it. A knock on the door may or may not be disregarded, depending on who is doing the knocking.
What| The large purple princess has finished adjusting. Now she has to plan and prepare. And learn to handle the kind of psychological aggression that the Capitol has at the ready.
Where| Training Center, around the Capitol, and the District 7 suites.
When| After the credit card cutoff, before the mini-arena
Warnings/Notes| n/a, will update if needed
Around the Capitol
If it wasn't one thing here, it was another, Gritta was coming to learn. The constant alarming events and bad news made her long for the comparative stability of the Castle Terminal and the petty political bickering of Shadow Royalty. At least there, she was guaranteed to be both properly fed and treated with respect. But if it was to be sink or swim, she would swim. She would swim as hard as she could. Jason Compson had somehow proposed that she star in a children's show, of all things... but it wasn't all that bad, once she found herself in the studio and reciting morality lessons and signging songs with puppets. It hadn't gone to broadcast yet, but she was still compensated for her work, and that was what mattered. Couple that with an endorsement contract for decorative nail decals and she no longer had to panic about where her next meal was coming from.
For instance, her current meal was coming from this lovely cafe, where she was seated in the sunlight. Did sandwiches taste better in the sunshine? Was coffee more pleasant on a sunny day? She'd have to answer that one with a 'yes'. Zed's fixation with the wonders of the light made far better sense, now. Sitting here, right in this moment, things feel good. The darkness of this city was far away, as was the fear of pain and terror in an arena. She was a free young woman, earning her own way, answering only to herself. At least for the moment. She'll savor it, just as she savors her lunch. Down goes the last triangle of club sandwich, and as she chews, she considers ordering another. The only thing that would make the moment better would be company.
Training Center
The fear of pain and terror in the arena was, on the other hand, far closer when back in the Tribute Tower and put to work in the training center. Her protests did very little to prevent it from coming to this, dressed in dull monster-sized workout gear and made to run laps. The trainers had assessed her as ploddingly slow, and far too timid to make much use of any of the weapons, but they could at least work on her endurance. It is only the very sturdy construction of the training center that keeps the ground from shaking with her every footfall. It has only been one lap and a half and she is panting, miserable, and desperately wanting to stop, but they said they wanted five out of her before she'd be free to go, so she is going to try her very hardest to manage that. To fail would be unthinkable. She'll succeed out of spite, if nothing else.
She's at risk for plowing into someone, but at least she's not moving very fast. It likely won't hurt much.
District 7 Suites, post-exposé
It had been a quiet evening in the District 7 suites, and Gritta had been content to rest her sore limbs and watch a little television. She had even popped some of the popcorn she had purchased with her own money, and set it out for others to share. Let no one call her greedy and thoughtless. She's happy to chat with anyone that comes by or sits down or passes through, if they seem amenable to it. It's important to get to know as many people here as possible. She's still working out who would be an ally and who would be an enemy.
But popcorn and pleasant company is forgotten when the current show ends and a new exposé starts up. It's about her and Zed. Whatever minor fascination she feels about being the sudden center of attention shrivels and dies and becomes horrified can't-look-away shock once it really gets going. It paints her as a scheming villain, and Zed as a love-struck innocent. And the things it implies about her and General Schwarz...
To her credit, she makes it to the end of the broadcast before raising from her seat and fleeing for the safety of her room. She slams the door shut, crumples into a heap, and weeps noisily. It's all wrong, every bit of it. And now everyone will see her that way. Everyone will know the most private parts of her life, twisted up all horribly.
She'll be better come morning, probably. But for now, she's a mess, and needs to work through it. A knock on the door may or may not be disregarded, depending on who is doing the knocking.
no subject
There's so little delicate about Gritta, but Linden's eyes linger on her hand as she leans over.
"No, don't apologize," he says quickly. "No harm done. You're not... human, are you?"
He's curious, rather than repulsed. He's used to Offworlders not always wearing a familiar face, but Gritta's is certainly an interesting one.
no subject
"I'm not human, that's right. I'm a Shadow Monster." She's not the least bit embarrassed to say it, and not terribly concerned about what his response might be. She is what she is, and people thus far have been accepting of it. Perhaps its easy to reach a strangeness saturation point in this place. "I take it there haven't been many of us here before...?"
no subject
His eyebrows raise when she describes herself as a monster; somehow, it's not what he expected. She's clearly that, of course, but it hardly seems like a flattering description, more like something frightened humans would call something unfamiliar and abnormal. He nods to confirm that he understands, and then that there haven't been many of her kind up until this point.
"As far as I know, you're the first," he admits. "Actually, when I first saw your silhouette, you startled me; I thought that you were one of the iron maidens. Even though I have seen you before... I enjoy your show... I suppose it's different in this dim lighting."
no subject
"Ah." She offers her own nod of understanding in kind. And just gently omits that Zed is technically one as well. He's sensitive about it, and she's kind enough to play along with him. No comment is offered on possibly mistaking her for an iron maiden (she's more marshmallow than iron, to be honest), but the rest gets a curious sound from her. "Oh? You're a fan? It's a children's show, but I do here there older fans as well. Either for the songs, or for the humor." Humor that she's often the butt of, but such is show business.
no subject
"I'm actually a very big fan. I don't care that it's a show for children... it's gentle, and sometimes the heart asks for a little bit of gentleness and innocence in this world. You understand. So... while the songs and humor are fine, it's not the biggest draw for me."
no subject
"Really?" She's quite flattered to hear that. It's surprisingly sweet an answer to hear from someone that belongs to this world. There's a little more warmth in her eyes and her voice, now. "I suppose everyone can use a pleasant diversion now and then. I'm happy that I can provide that." Hmm, she'll have to see if she can get him one of the stuffed toys, when they come out. Would he like that? She'll have to ask around.
no subject
"Yes, really. It's not so hard to believe, is it, especially when you put it like that?" he asks, canting his head sidelong and offering a pale smile. "I know a boy who would enjoy your show; the next time I see him, I'll have to either ask him if he watches it or recommend it to his mother, who's a good friend of mine."