Phi (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
occasio) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2015-09-19 01:47 pm
occasio) wrote in thecapitol2015-09-19 01:47 pm
ab initio
Who| Phi and anyone on the Capitol side!
What| Phi arrives in the Capitol and has a look around.
Where| D4 floor, and around the Capitol.
When| Present time.
Warnings/Notes| None presently
[A: D4 Commons or D4 Rooms]
Phi arrives at her room with the typical Peacekeeper escort. She's half expecting the door to be locked when they leave, but she tries the knob and finds it free to turn. There won't be any damsel in distress in this tower. She can be her own knight.
With that much confirmed, she leaves the door open and turns back to the room. Her first order of business is to check every nook and cranny for something that might be useful. Unfortunately, the room is as barren of any useful tools as a prison cell, though much more luxuriously furnished.
Venturing out into the common rooms, Phi takes inventory of the kitchen and the living space. She gets the impression of being in some kind of high-class hotel suite--and there's a familiarity to it as well. There's a memory sitting in the back of her mind of a space like this, though the furnishings were much different. Likewise, she remembers Sigma being there, but that isn't the case right now.
There are other doors in the hallway that she came from, but those ones don't belong to her. She wonders if anyone is home, or if she might take a peek while the owner is unaware. Pressing an ear to the door, Phi listens close for any movement inside the room.
[B: The Capitol, anywhere]
The world outside is dazzling. After spending several cumulative days in the confines of a lunar base with only eight other people to speak of, the sheer numbers of buildings and people are overwhelming. There's a kaleidoscope of color walking the sidewalks, and it's all that Phi can do not to stare at the people. They look ridiculous, but at least that much is uniform.
She wanders as far as her feet will take her, provided she's not stopped from entering any restricted areas. She's not aware of where those are, but her ability to pick up on the behavior of others is pretty keen. She pauses at various shops, inspecting the window displays with internal curiosity, but not venturing inside. As far as anyone can tell by her expression, she looks bored with virtually everything she sees.
What| Phi arrives in the Capitol and has a look around.
Where| D4 floor, and around the Capitol.
When| Present time.
Warnings/Notes| None presently
[A: D4 Commons or D4 Rooms]
Phi arrives at her room with the typical Peacekeeper escort. She's half expecting the door to be locked when they leave, but she tries the knob and finds it free to turn. There won't be any damsel in distress in this tower. She can be her own knight.
With that much confirmed, she leaves the door open and turns back to the room. Her first order of business is to check every nook and cranny for something that might be useful. Unfortunately, the room is as barren of any useful tools as a prison cell, though much more luxuriously furnished.
Venturing out into the common rooms, Phi takes inventory of the kitchen and the living space. She gets the impression of being in some kind of high-class hotel suite--and there's a familiarity to it as well. There's a memory sitting in the back of her mind of a space like this, though the furnishings were much different. Likewise, she remembers Sigma being there, but that isn't the case right now.
There are other doors in the hallway that she came from, but those ones don't belong to her. She wonders if anyone is home, or if she might take a peek while the owner is unaware. Pressing an ear to the door, Phi listens close for any movement inside the room.
[B: The Capitol, anywhere]
The world outside is dazzling. After spending several cumulative days in the confines of a lunar base with only eight other people to speak of, the sheer numbers of buildings and people are overwhelming. There's a kaleidoscope of color walking the sidewalks, and it's all that Phi can do not to stare at the people. They look ridiculous, but at least that much is uniform.
She wanders as far as her feet will take her, provided she's not stopped from entering any restricted areas. She's not aware of where those are, but her ability to pick up on the behavior of others is pretty keen. She pauses at various shops, inspecting the window displays with internal curiosity, but not venturing inside. As far as anyone can tell by her expression, she looks bored with virtually everything she sees.
no subject
"Yes, elven. The ears aren't just for show." She tugged at one of the pointy ears in question. "And if the elves in your world are fairy tales or little munchkins that make cookies, are tall and glow and have hair down to their waist, good for you. I don't give a shit, but good for you. I'm how elves look in my world." With that out of the way, because if Tabris heard one more reference to Keebler, things were getting thrown, she saunters out to the common room, and flops on a couch.
"Alright, I have a lot to tell you, and you're not going to believe any of it at first, because it sounds absolutely insane. Just pretend that you believe me, and pay attention, because this shit is important. Don't waste your time thinking how impossible it is. Alright? Good." She doesn't wait for Phi to agree, wading right into the thick of it.
"To start out with: You're not in your world. You're in a different world, called Panem, and the helpful designation for you is offworlder. Creative, yes, I know. Now, Panem gathers all these offworlders from different worlds up, strips them of their magic abilities, so if you have any of those, they're gone, sorry. Then they toss you into an arena. Arenas are usually these pretty big areas, that have a theme. Like, medieval fairy tales or the ice age, stuff like that. And you are tossed in there with all the other tributes. That's we are, by the way. Tributes. Then we kill each other. Last person alive wins, becomes victor, and doesn't have to go back. The rest of us usually spring back up in the Capitol. That's this place. This city. You come back like you never got killed, no scars from the arena. So I hope you like how you look right now, because that's how you're staying until you either win or petition out."
She finally stopped the info dump, and sat back, crossing her legs and resting her hands on top of her knees. "That's the long and short of it. Questions?"
no subject
She lets Tabris talk, saving all protests or outbursts for the end, if indeed she has any at all. Her gaze is focused on the elf, her eyes never leaving her for a second as she assesses both words and actions. She's a long-winded one, that's for sure.
"I've heard about arenas already. And Tributes. And Victors and Mentors, really. I've been informed that this place is the Capitol, the political center of Panem--which means 'bread' by the way. Panem et circenses. Bread and circuses. Not surprised they left the second part off." It's hard to tell if Phi is musing to herself or trying to be a smart alack. She delivers her response with all the emotional range of a conversation about the weather.
"...Didn't know about the death thing, so I guess thanks for that. How is that part supposed to work?"