thecapitol | open - One More Soul to the Call

Entry tags:

open - One More Soul to the Call

Who| Leonidas and open to all
What| The Bitchy Hobbit recovers and trains
Where| Various Places
When| Early January, after the D1 Battles
Warnings/Notes| None other than Leo being Leo.

I- A Capitol Hospital

It's been weeks now and the physical wounds had long healed but Leonidas still nursed a gaping maw in his emotional well-being. Everything was turned on his head as he recovered from his injuries: the Capitol had lost two Districts but only saved their own. Would they extend that kindness to their other favorites? Would they protect District 2 like they did for District 1? There wasn't enough support rallied in the outer regions, of course they failed. Of course the Rebels won Twelve and Seven, they'd been ungrateful and sore losers…

No, that wasn't right. Cora rubbed his forehead as the already worn out Capitol propaganda he's been fed since birth was chipping away. Jet Link had a point: he wasn't safe. He wasn't a Capitolite that the government would expense money to save, he was a Districter. Hell, he was a crippled Districter that proved his worth by killing nameless allies of the Rebellion. There was nothing he could drudge up and show to the unyielding eyes of Snow that was worth the effort.

He disregarded what the nurses said about his injuries and would be found grabbing a nearby cane to get the hell out of this sterile wasteland. Like hell they were treating him like some pathetic whelp of a man, bed rest his ass.

II- Detainment Center

A. Main Lobby
With the Tribute Center indefinitely closed, there was nothing to go back to and Cora was quietly seething. So he had to go to the Detainment Center to work now, huh? To see what could be done for the war effort.

It's not like he can go back to his home District now that the Capitol has definitely closed down all routes and the sheer amount of documentation would prove fruitless. He'd have to resort to more illicit ways to contact his family and friends back there, as well as Fairweather's. Hey, a promise is a promise and Leo's word was law.

He's surveying the current crop of soldiers now, screening them for possibility of combat and their health. In order to be a licensed coach, Cora had to be licensed in physical strength and therapy. It's also a good way to see what little remained of the Capitol's generosity.

B. DC - Training Center

He couldn't stay away from his own training though, in case he was called back to the war front. But this time…this time Leo wasn't so sure that he would remain in the Capitol's side. Jet made a point: he wasn't dying for Panem, but for the Capitol's sake. The man knew that his loyalty was never to Snow but to his people. How dare he use that against him…

But it added weight to what Merlin once said: that this government was destined to fail when it broke their promises and made selfish choices. This conflict played out on the sheer brutality he inflicted onto the dummies, landing killing blows and goring them with his spear. Those who approach Cora in this state run the risk of facing the Districter's wrath.

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She'd only gone out to the field once herself, as an expert on Seven, and she'd come back half dead. Emily was recovering well now, thanks to the technology and expertise of the Capitol's doctors, but she was still pallid and tired, and the skin that had been grafted onto her right side was still noticeably different to her own. She's only been in for a check up today, and is on her way back home for some more prescribed rest and recuperation, when she spots Leo hobbling out with his cane. She debates whether to approach him, remembering how their last encounter had gone, but she's concerned about him and wants to show she cares, even if he doesn't.

"Hey. You okay?"

The last person Leo wanted to see in that moment was the walking contradiction that was Emily Finch for some of the reasons that he's in conflict with. Would she still stand with the Capitol after seeing what happened to her former home? Well, if she's here, it was clear which side she took and ran with it.

I shouldn't be so harsh to her; she's surviving as best as she can. Just because I would rather die than become a Capitolite...doesn't mean she has to go down with me, he thought about this long and hard before giving her a grim smile.

"Hello Finch, been a while...I'm alive," he answered the question.

Edited 2016-01-12 01:08 (UTC)

"That's good, at least." It was also telling: alive was scraping the barrel of existence. But what chance had any of the mentors to thrive, especially now war was upon them? "District One, right? At least you're safe now."

"District Seven, got injured fighting off the rebels there, ran into one of my former tributes," he admitted, he was defending her District when he was injured though there's no ill will in that. War is war and the Districts needed to stick together through this mess. Though it begged the question of why his brain didn't include the Capitol in all this.

Slowly but steadily, the indoctrination had begun to weather itself away with reality, but he should not admit to such thoughts out loud.

"Is your family safe?"

Surprise flits across Emily's features as he admits he was in Seven. "I... I see. Too bad I didn't run into you out there, we might both have avoided getting hurt." Or not made it back at all, but she doesn't want to think about that. Her expression turns a little darker as he enquires about her family. "My father and the two little ones were taken into Peacekeeper custody before things got explosive. They're safe in a camp out away from the front." Potentially under lock and key, but it was better than the alternative. "No one's seen my mother. I'm hoping she just disappeared into the forest somehow." She's not too hopeful about that. "And my older brother..." She falters. She was certain that she'd seen Matthew lurking outside her house in the Victor's Village just before the building had exploded around her. "I don't know where he is."

"Your mother's a native of the land, she has better chances of surviving than most of the rebels that only know about Thirteen's layout," Leo tried to be assuring...in his own particular way. There was a lot of fire and bloodshed in the thickets of the District but being objective helped.

One look at Emily though and piecing together the fact that she was aware of the conflict but not in it...she was at the attack.

"I take it you've already given your statement about the matter," he stated, both concerned and intrigued. "You're lucky you know that? We don't have the luxury of a cheap death."

Not unlike the offworlders.

She nods, knowing that her mother could survive for months deep in the forests if needs be, but that every day her disappearance dragged on would mean another day she'd be seen as suspect, and in which her father and younger brothers would be interrogated about both her and Matthew's whereabouts.

"My house is gone," she says simply, as though she's just accepting it. Out of all the awful things that had come with being a Victor, she'd always been genuinely grateful to the Capitol for the home they'd provided for her and her family. "There was a noise, then the heat and smoke. It-- it felt like I was back in the Arena." That's the first time she's admitted that last part, and she hates herself for it, for having felt the panic and weakness that had come with so many of her nightmares and flashbacks made real once more.

In any other time and place, Leonidas would've told Emily that the flashbacks are part of the deal with being a Victor, essentially to suck it up for the good of Panem. But the war has worn down the pro-Capitol stance to the point that it's now a thin veneer of the armor it once was. It was becoming obvious for Leo that Snow's stance was not to preserve Panem but to keep the Capitol in power, Districts be damned.

"Have you talked to someone about the flashbacks?" he asked, concerned that she too would falter in the face of a Peacekeeper's gun.

"Only Quintus." He seemed to be the only person she knew with actual combat experience outside of the Games, and he'd never brushed aside her feelings despite being so far up in the Capitol chain. "But no one professional, if that's what you mean. I learned first hand how bad the counselling for Victors was, I'm not going back there."

"Let me guess, all they do is prescribe morphling and tell you the Capitol is great an all," he grumbled under his breath, he's had a few visiting psychiatrists try to feed him even more propaganda and immediately hauled ass at the thought of facing his wrath again. One even claimed that Leo punched him in the gut, though later disproved.

"You keep all that bottled up, you'll end up making stupid decisions," he stated outright, blunt but probably needed to be heard. Everyone handled Victors like Emily as if she were made of glass at times but Cora can see that under that fragile demeanor there was a survivor.

Emily shrugs. "I've kept it bottled up this long." Something that surprised her sometimes, when she thinks about just how long she's been keeping on. "Although if you have any advice, I'll take it."

"Dunno, can a Capitolite accept the aid of a Districter?" Leonidas hasn't forgottent this facet of Emily's life. She decided to take herself away from her origins, her identity and for what? She was a soldier like him, expendable and broken...what advice could he even offer her?

"I'd say talk it out with a trusted friend or lover. You have those two aspects covered, don't you?" He reads Celebrus like a good citizen, or because there was nothing else.

"You know, the next time I find myself trying to get out of a hospital before my time, you have no room to talk," Torin comments dryly. Going somewhere, Leo? Torin's been focused more on training people than going out and fighting--which he's actually glad about, even if he tries not to show it, but there was nothing stopping him from going in and checking on his districtmate in the hospital. He's glad he did, what with Leo trying to check himself out like this. "There are better ways to go about breaking out of a hospital, you know. They'll catch you with that."

...look, Torin knows what it is to want to get the hell out of a hospital. Time to teach Leo his ways.

Leo stopped in his tracks when he heard that familiar and commanding voice. Ah, of course, he'd been caught by Torin, of course. As if the universe didn't have enough fun with him, according to very biased judgments. He had two options, the easy way or the hard way...for once he chose the easy way and conceded defeat.

"I will take your word for your escape and that I may have battle skills, but not stealth," he joked before adding, "I need to check on the tributes and make sure they're not sent with open wounds or injury."

He knows that his defeat at the hands of Jet Link was a disgrace, and the worst part? It was on purpose. After all this talk of patriotism, he couldn't kill a former tribute of his.

"Believe me, I know the feeling." Boy, does Torin know that feeling. It is the worst feeling. "I don't think the Capitol's in a mood to waste too many resources right now. They should be looking out for the Tributes' basic well-being." Giving the Tributes more than the rest of the citizens generally got, at least. Torin's frustration with the entire situation is bleeding through in his voice.

But there is one thing that he can do, which makes him smile a little. It's a mischievous little smile. "Of course, if you wanted to go out for a walk to get some fresh air, I'm sure they'd allow me to accompany you with one of the wheelchairs..." He lets the suggestion hang. Come on, Leo, can't you connect the dots? It's so much easier to get out of a hospital with help, even if that help intends to dump you back there if you seem to need it.

Cora connected the dots and rolled his eyes but nonetheless conceded the fact that he needed a cover story. So yes, he hobbled his sorry Districter ass over to the nearest wheelchair and sat there. But the words dripping with discontent were heard loud and clear. In any other time before the war, Leonidas would've countered with something about the good of Panem...but seeing Jet out there changed him.

Instead, Torin got a small grunt of assertion.

"We're at war, I suppose we need all the resources at our disposal," he argued halfheartedly, then murmured "It's not as organized as the Capitol says it is. The communication lines are not holding up with the Districters."

The current escapee is just the person China'd been hoping to visit in the hospital. She doesn't drag herself down there for just anyone. She'd considered bringing flowers, but what use would he have for them? So all she has is herself as she strolls in, eyes casting over the many screens and staff to try and figure out where his room is.

But, of course, he makes things easy.

She waves and calls out to him. "What does it take to keep you off your feet? A cannon, perhaps?"

This was Leo's fifth attempt at escaping so yes, a cannon would have to be the only thing to keep the stubborn man down. And luckily for the staff that China didn't send in flowers, or else he'd use them as a cover or a distraction. Best not ask how.

"Maybe that would be the only way, and even if I had one of my limbs blown off, I'd still take some rebels with me," he joked as he smirked, "Look at you visiting the ill and wounded. Looking for a particular soldier? Because the nurses are of much better use than me."

All he's seen in here are Peacekeepers and the occasional District civilian whose family put up their home to make sure the Capitol took care of them.

“You know how I have a charitable bent.” Her voice was dry, her face an ironic mask as she said that. It cracked into a slightly wider smile as she reconsidered him. “Looking for an escaping mastermind seems to be more accurate. Shall we slip out together? Perhaps they’ll be less likely to detain you if you’re accompanied by someone.”

Even if she were foolish enough to believe she could hold him back, China wouldn’t dream of standing in his way. If he was up and walking around, he was probably just as fine as he insisted. And if he wasn’t… she was sure it’d work out eventually. And they’d have fun in the meantime.

"I would welcome the escaping mastermind," Leo managed to dance the line between his own failings and giving China that extra boost to her already healthy ego. He straightened himself as best he could before walking alongside Sorrows.

"So many ungrateful bastards in here and not enough Capitol cheer," he continued, covering up his own doubts in the system with his usual arrogance and disdain for the rebellions.

"Oh, but I was referring to you as the mastermind; you've made it so far. Nevertheless, I'll accept your kind compliment."

As if she'd ever reject one, no matter how it was offered.

She frowned delicately. "Ungrateful? What makes you say so?"

"I saw enough of them want to defect to the rebellion, and some of them did...for a while. I never thought I'd see Jet Link alive, well, and fighting for District Thirteen," he certainly gave off the airs of a man who was betrayed, and gave Sorrows a view point that wasn't the Capitol's. He had witnessed the war and the sanitized version Panem News showed off...it was so far from the truth.

"They're in the Detention Center now, getting treated." But what he didn't know what the re-education.

"My." The raw truth was appreciated, as might be seen in her grim smile. It was good to have news straight from the battlefield, no matter how offensive to Capitol sensibilities. "That's some rather interesting news."

"Did you capture them, personally?"

"No, someone else has and it pains me to admit these facts," Leonidas admitted if only to nurse his wounded pride and make it seem less like he let Jet get away. How could he force himself to capture

But what he can admit is to the slaughtering of rebels. "Besides, I'm not the type to take in prisoners when I can." That and the footage from his stints in combat show the efficient Career he was. This was the purpose he was raised since he could open his eyes.

So why did it pain him so much now?

"Ah, but of course." She smiled, and it was tinged with more iciness than most people would likely be allowed to see on her face. But she didn't make an effort to hide herself with Leo.

"So perhaps these rebels should be thankful, then, that they were spared your intervention." A pause, and she continued as lightly as if they weren't discussing theoretical murder. "These former rebels--were you personally familiar with any of them?"

She imagined he was; it had been made perfectly clear to her that Leo had been a devoted coach back when the Tribute Center was operating as normal.

"One of them, my strongest Tribute as it turned out: one Jet Link. It was bittersweet to see him in battle, just on the wrong side," Leo responded, his nonchalance a convincing illusion to anyone who sought to undermine him. He might be close to China but in war, political standing suddenly became even more important than how many battles he's fought.

"I had a misstep and he escaped before I could bring him to justice. As much as I want to posture that I've done well, I don't like it when targets escape me."

"I wouldn't have thought that you would; it hardly fits with your perfectionism."

"And, yet, I'm sure those viewing the conflict holistically wouldn't say that one escaped fugitive out of however many were on that battlefield is a very damning failure."

By which she means, cut yourself a break, man.

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