and he will greet them in a smile that sticks like vaseline [open]

[marcato]

Who | Aunamee and OPEN
What | The Capitol has finally revived Aunamee after several years of nonexistence. He's feeling pretty happy about that.
Where | The Tribute lounge in the detention center.
When | Early January
Warnings | Nothing specific, although Aunamee's kind of a creeper. (Here are his permissions.)

This is perfect.

Aunamee feels the new energy in the Capitol. It's like a violin string being pulled too taut, mere moments away from snapping with a cacophonous twang. He doesn't even need to read minds to appreciate the tension. It practically begs its way into his nostrils, his lungs, his heartbeat.

Before his last death, Aunamee was a ruined man. He had nightmares. His hands would shake. He was simply too powerless, too trapped in this hellscape to control the demons lurking under his skin. But now? The unspoken fear in the Capitol is intoxicating. It's the opium to his agony.

Aunamee sits in what was once the Tribute lounge with a glass of wine pressed against his lips. He smiles at everyone who passes by. It's a friendly smile, yes, so very friendly.

Yet his deep gray eyes always linger a little too long.

Comments

Fffff Sorry, I was logged into the wrong account

[glowygreendeath]

"Indeed. We were under the impression that unpopular Tributes were left dead."

He means no offense by it, and states it as a fact. It was the only logical reason he could see for why some Tributes didn't come back after they had died in an Arena.

"We are Ermac."

He looks at Aunamee's hand, recognizing the gesture as a greeting common to both Earthrealm and Panem. Ermac crosses his arms in response; he had no reason to trust his fellow soldiers in the Capitol. Too many of them had been brainwashed to fight for Snow.

"What value do you believe they saw in you?"

The man was simply too small to be a front-line soldier. Perhaps he was a spy, or a sniper. Or perhaps he had other talents altogether, such as sorcery.

No worries! 8D

[marcato]

Unpopular Tributes. It's enough to make him sneer, and so he does, his lips tugged upwards ever so slightly. He lets his hand drop.

"I'm afraid that information is reserved for friends, plural Ermac."

He likes the sound of that. Plural Ermac. Aunamee doesn't know what to make of the other man's peculiar pronouns. This stranger could be king from a far off land, his position rendered meaningless by their Capitol captors. He could also be an eccentric. A madman.

"How long have you been in the Capitol?"

[glowygreendeath]

"Plural, indeed, for we are many."

He shrugs.

"Months. Long enough to have grown tired of their Games. War has always suited us better."

It's what he was made for, after all.

"Are you a native to this realm?"

This realm...he frowns slightly for a moment, calling on his many souls to see if even one of them had any prior knowledge or experience with this realm. None of them answer in the affirmative.

[marcato]

"No," he says easily, automatically. His thoughts are still on what Ermac said earlier. We are many. He wishes he could do what he normally did: crack open the other man's skull and peer inside at all of his buzzing, pluralistic thoughts. "I'm not from this place."

He leans forward, resting his folded arms on the table.

"But I do agree with you. War is more productive, especially for certain lessons. I can see why the Capitol has decided to resort to broader strokes."

[glowygreendeath]

Fortunately, no telepaths have come across Ermac here. The last one who attempted to read his mind had only gained a serious headache for their efforts.

"Lessons?"

He'd taken part in wars that changed the balance in power, defeated a common foe, or eliminated a rival. The concept of war as a lesson was intriguing. It infuriated some of his souls, of course, but only the ones that were still bitter from losing their war.

[marcato]

"Lessons," he responds, his frown finally flickering into a smile. "The poor Districts are lost without them."

Of course, the Capitol is lost without them too, but he can't speak about that -- not now. He knows that the Peacekeepers are watching their every move, salivating over cameras and taking notes like their lives depend on it. He knows that they crave ammunition like how a drowning man craves water.

"Have you been in many wars, plural Ermac?"

[glowygreendeath]

"Many. All of our souls had perished in one war or another."

Some of them had been a long way from any 'war zone,' but their deaths were all tied to war. Assassinations and small skirmishes were common in warfare, after all.

"We have never seen war used as an...educational tool."

It didn't strike him as a particularly effective tool for surpressing a rebellion. Outworld had its share of troubles, but even there civil war was an absolute last resort. He had already watched as the war in the Districts caused otherwise neutral civilians to become sympathetic with the rebellion.