you've always loved the strange birds

[porcelainandsteel]

Who| Sansa and OPEN
What| Sansa arrives in the Capitol
Where| Around the Tribute Center and the Capitol
When| ...Now?
Warnings/Notes| TBC

She feels lost and unmoored, but that's nothing new. Since her father's death, through all the long protracted nightmare of King's Landing, she's felt that way, out of her depth and swept up in things beyond her control. In that sense, it hardly comes as a surprise for Ser Dontos' boat to become a dream, and to wake up somewhere else entirely.

It's the place itself that shocks her, therefore, at least as much as the fact that she's here. She's never seen or even dreamed of anything like this land, all glass and steel and blinding white, even the guards dressed in something glossy and clean and hard that certainly isn't steel armour. She lets herself be guided without argument, meek and mild as any girl could ever be, and feels oddly bereft when they leave her in her new room without even that dubious company.

When it comes down to it, though, she doesn't stay in the room long - but still long enough to wonder at a few of the strange objects scattered around it: the black mirror on the wall that barely reflects, the lights in the ceiling that have no clear flame. Then, feeling the strangeness of it all well up inside her, she knows she ought to get moving. She has to find out where she is, for one thing, and what the allegiances are of its lords. The Lannisters will be looking for her, she thinks, and if she ends up back in King's Landing, what she endured before will seem like tender mercy.

For the rest of the day, Sansa can be found wandering - first out into District 6's common area, then around the rest of the strange building, and at last out into the streets themselves. Her wonder is written on her face, along with a growing unease; she is so caught up in staring up at the sweeping buildings and foreign towers and strange lights that she may well bump into several people, her ladylike grace and manners momentarily forgotten.

If she does drag her eyes away from the city long enough to focus on its people, she will approach anyone who looks as though they might be friendly, bobbing a curtsey and asking politely if she might have a word.

Comments

[porcelainandsteel]

"Oh, would you? That would be so kind, Karkat." She smiles at him, clasping her hands. "I'll pay you back the moment I can, I promise. Oh, do they have lemon cakes? Lemon cakes were always my favourite."

She appreciates his sympathy, more than she could say even if she felt able to be entirely open and honest with anyone. It feels like an age since she could take someone even remotely at face value when they felt sorry for her. Even Ser Dontos had only helped her because she helped him first. She can't help but be suspicious, but she doesn't want to be, so she pushes that suspicion to the back of her mind and lets herself believe that he really does feel for her.

[crabmunicator]

The corner of his mouth lifts, not really a smile, but positive enough for him. "Probably. They've got a lot of stuff."

They've got cookies shaped like his face and horn-colored cream horns and croissants, too, as she'll see when they get there. And indeed, they do have lemon cake.

From there, he leads her around, showing her one thing or another. There's enough to gawk at out in the Capitol, from the buildings themselves to the adornments they put up - statues, art, fountains - and flora here and there, like the park. It's fairly leisurely, though he dodges main streets via alley now and then, glad whenever a knot of citizens gives him reason to build up the ruse.

Eventually, one of these alleyways has what he wants: graffiti. It's unlike any murals they might have seen, imprecise in a way that's genuine rather than artsy, showing the outline of a bird. A mockingjay. It's a good spot, not too near the street, though the first thing out of his mouth is a hushed, "Keep your voice quiet here." There wouldn't be microphones in this spot, he's sure, but he doesn't want to risk anyone else overhearing them.

He turns to her, though he keeps his back toward the street, looking to block what he can of their faces. It's paranoid perhaps to think someone could lipread from that distance, but extra care is better than too little. He meets her eyes with his.

"I can't say this anywhere else, so listen up and engrave it the hardest stone in your memory. This place is all I've got left, and it sounds like it's better than anything you have to go back to. But if we're going to make it, we can't let the Capitol keep doing what it's doing. It sends us into the arenas again and again; it tortures and executes anyone who steps out of line. If they knew we were here right now, they would have us both dead for it, you understand?"

He holds her gaze, earnest, holding back on anything else until he can see she's on board with what he's saying.

[porcelainandsteel]

"I understand." Sansa stands with her back to the alley's mouth, effectively blocking the view for anyone passing by, and her voice is conversational and casual, even though her expression falls into a look of ungodly tiredness. "But I don't want anything to do with it. I'm sorry, Karkat, truly I am. But the last thing I want, could want, is to be hunted here too."

[crabmunicator]

His features don't fall so much as shift and lose their footing. This isn't what he hoped for or what he was thinking would come of this. He thought he could fold her into the rebellion. What her skills might be he doesn't know, but that doesn't mean she'd have none. This place has well taught him the value of allies. But here he's only given the first hint of things, and she's told him no.

For a moment he considers arguments he could make, what might bribe her, but he knows only the roughest outline of her past. He knows, too, how draining trying to fight everything can be. His expression finds something more solid, but it's more resignation than confidence.

"I'm going to tell you this much, and nothing else," he says, deciding it for himself. "There is a rebellion--people working against the Capitol, wanting to stop what they put us through so they can fix Panem. So long as you have the choice to stay out, I'm not going to force you into it. Just know that no matter how bad shit gets, there are people trying to make this place better. Keep that knowledge close and quiet. Okay?"

Despite everything, he hopes for her sake she won't get dragged in before she's ready.

[porcelainandsteel]

She nods. "I can keep a secret," she assures him quietly, and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I can't help you, but I swear to the old gods and the new, they won't hear a word of it from my lips." She learnt that lesson long ago, in the hardest way she can imagine. Last time she told people in power something she oughtn't to have, her whole family and life were forfeit. She won't make that mistake again here, not when she has no reason to hate the rebels or wish them ill.

"Oughtn't we to move on?" she says after a moment, glancing back over her shoulder at the passers-by. They look innocent enough, but she knows not to underestimate the dangers of innocent passers-by. There's no sense in drawing out dangerous conversations, no matter how safe he thinks they ought to be here.

[crabmunicator]

Old gods and new? Karkat's never been one for piety, but he keeps in whatever he might have to say, and keeps his eyebrow from raising like it wants. There's a time and a place for irreverence, and even he knows it isn't when she's swearing secrecy.

"Good. Thank you." And truly, he is relieved. It was dangerous enough to risk it, more dangerous still to tell someone who wants no part. But she's smart and good, and he values that. Right, too, with her suggestion, and Karkat nods before setting off again. They'll come out the other end of the alley and keep going, like nothing happened.

"Is there anywhere else you want to see before we turn back?" he asks with a glance. They could probably tour through one more, and it keeps up the ruse to ask, but returning to the tower would be just as welcome to him now.