Panem Events (
etcircenses) wrote in
thecapitol2016-02-10 08:59 pm
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A Bloody Valentine: The Investigation
Who| Those selected for the lab search Mission
What| Capitol-soldiers enact a bit of rebellion to find out top secret info regarding what the offworlders a really for... and find a little more that was bargained for.
Where| A lab near to the Romulus Hotel
When| Congruent with the dance auction
Warnings/Notes| Violence, gore, body horror, descriptions of dead bodies in various states of decomposition and mutilation
A quick stop in the gift shop means a nice big hat for each to duck under and pass by Peackeepers. Hopefully. Laughing together in affected Capitol accents and acting like a natural born citizen may well be the best way to sneak by. After that, it's off into the night, just down the block. There's no clear entrance save one door in a back alley, the color blended to match the wall and make it unnoticeable. However, the red graffiti stating, You're playing with fire, and the dark freezer truck at the end of the alley, do both help to bring it to attention. There's some serious business locks on the door except... someone's put a stopper slip of wood in there, keeping it so anyone can sneak in. Odd. You'd think with a place so important looking as this, those working there would be a little more careful.
The inside is just as stark white as the outside, only more so thanks to the bright white lights that shine from the ceiling giving the whole place a glow. Anyone really familiar with the process of Avoxing may find the look of it all to be very familiar. It only gets worse as the group progresses down the sterile halls, through one door, then another, until finally reaching a room with hazmat suits on a rack, masks set by them. The next door is steel, and upon it's closing, a sterilizing spray is unleashed. Only then does the final steel door open.
The first thing to hit is the smell. Only a few times have even the arenas smelled like this. It's the singular warning to the horror that's to be witnessed as the lights slowly turn on, running down to the end of the massive room. It may once have been a building used for the Avoxing of criminals but no longer.
For rows and rows do the metal tables go on, upon them, corpses in very state of decay, dissection, and dismemberment. The bodies have all manner of injuries: burns, bites, stab wounds, more, all injuries that could be managed within an arena. The bodies are yours; the offworlders, the former Tributes, those who have died.
Two bodies of the same person lain out together like twins to be compared can be seen. Others are opened up or half way through the processes of being stitched back together. Some of the corpses have been incredibly preserved, withered and hollow-cheeked, but still like they could simply be asleep. The quarter quell has been running for nearly four years and there's a little piece of every offworlder left from it.
There are great machines of unknown purpose, some appearing perfectly innocuous, others looking like something from a torture chamber. There are separated glass rooms with bottled chemicals, walls with giant tubes of liquid with bodies kept within, and another wall where the bodies appear cryogenically frozen.
Down at the end in a steel room with clear forcefield, is a separate area for those dead with a tendency to get back up. Desks are scattered through out, many filled with documents, hastily scrawled notes, and journals-- no photos of loved ones here, but there may be something that tells of what exactly went on here.
What| Capitol-soldiers enact a bit of rebellion to find out top secret info regarding what the offworlders a really for... and find a little more that was bargained for.
Where| A lab near to the Romulus Hotel
When| Congruent with the dance auction
Warnings/Notes| Violence, gore, body horror, descriptions of dead bodies in various states of decomposition and mutilation
A quick stop in the gift shop means a nice big hat for each to duck under and pass by Peackeepers. Hopefully. Laughing together in affected Capitol accents and acting like a natural born citizen may well be the best way to sneak by. After that, it's off into the night, just down the block. There's no clear entrance save one door in a back alley, the color blended to match the wall and make it unnoticeable. However, the red graffiti stating, You're playing with fire, and the dark freezer truck at the end of the alley, do both help to bring it to attention. There's some serious business locks on the door except... someone's put a stopper slip of wood in there, keeping it so anyone can sneak in. Odd. You'd think with a place so important looking as this, those working there would be a little more careful.
The inside is just as stark white as the outside, only more so thanks to the bright white lights that shine from the ceiling giving the whole place a glow. Anyone really familiar with the process of Avoxing may find the look of it all to be very familiar. It only gets worse as the group progresses down the sterile halls, through one door, then another, until finally reaching a room with hazmat suits on a rack, masks set by them. The next door is steel, and upon it's closing, a sterilizing spray is unleashed. Only then does the final steel door open.
The first thing to hit is the smell. Only a few times have even the arenas smelled like this. It's the singular warning to the horror that's to be witnessed as the lights slowly turn on, running down to the end of the massive room. It may once have been a building used for the Avoxing of criminals but no longer.
For rows and rows do the metal tables go on, upon them, corpses in very state of decay, dissection, and dismemberment. The bodies have all manner of injuries: burns, bites, stab wounds, more, all injuries that could be managed within an arena. The bodies are yours; the offworlders, the former Tributes, those who have died.
Two bodies of the same person lain out together like twins to be compared can be seen. Others are opened up or half way through the processes of being stitched back together. Some of the corpses have been incredibly preserved, withered and hollow-cheeked, but still like they could simply be asleep. The quarter quell has been running for nearly four years and there's a little piece of every offworlder left from it.
There are great machines of unknown purpose, some appearing perfectly innocuous, others looking like something from a torture chamber. There are separated glass rooms with bottled chemicals, walls with giant tubes of liquid with bodies kept within, and another wall where the bodies appear cryogenically frozen.
Down at the end in a steel room with clear forcefield, is a separate area for those dead with a tendency to get back up. Desks are scattered through out, many filled with documents, hastily scrawled notes, and journals-- no photos of loved ones here, but there may be something that tells of what exactly went on here.
no subject
For two days we had a heartbeat. For two days, I felt I did too for the first time in a long time. Subjects eyes opened on day two, though there appeared to be no cognive recognition whatsoever. Still. The Subject was alive.
I was not involved in anything like this sort of science. I feel I am winging it most of the time, enough so that I wonder if the old myth of Frankenstien went much the same. Or perhaps, to bring real and more recent events into focus, if this is how everyone felt when they opened a portal to whole new worlds and times. Revival mechanism, I mean. I must remember to use the technical terms. It is the best means of surviving around here.
I recognize the subject from their time as a Tribute. I recognize everyone and I know I am not alone in that. We can never decide collectively if we are more careful with those Subjects who use to represent District three, or less. I imagine some of it is jealousy.
I did not feel jealousy today. After two days of heartbeat, we'd lost it again. Subject passed away at 21:09. I've not left this place for hours. All our celebration before seems a joke. I simply wish to stop now.
For several pages it is nothing but dry note taking. There's nothing of real interest until three more torn out pages can be noted by the rips they've left behind. There is one written page left...
no subject
no subject
"Is there any more?"
no subject
Does this have anything to do with the machine that brings us back?
Someone sabotaged not too long ago, but from the sounds of these entrees he's been here longer then that.
Since before District three was turned into a smoking crater maybe?
Clearing her throat and trying to clear her mind she turned to the last written page and began to read once more.
Safe.
I recognized the Avox they sent to us. She'd broken into this facility along with some others. She'd been caught, of course. It was the first I'd seen of someone Capitol born doing something against this place. I now realise there may have been many more where she came from. I will look at the Avoxes and wonder where they came from and how many of them are Victims who were once part of this city I believed responsibile for the decemation of my home. If even the Capitol born are unhappy, then who truly benefits from this system of ours?
I have been here so long. To think the answer was right in front of us. If not for that sickness, we could have gotten this so much sooner. How far can we reach? When will we be able to save our own? We will have to preform tests on others first, I know.
I am afraid. For myself. For what may be next.
I am stalling. I do not want to be the one to have to kill her. She reminds me of my daughter but I don't know if that resemblance is merely my own projection. I am tired of being part of this but I have nothing else.
I will leave a means in. Others should know what is going on here. I do not know what it will accomplish but I wish to believe it will be something. I have to believe this will all be for something.
The following pages of the journal are blank save for one golden flower drawn in the back. The color is faded like it has been touched many times.
Signless manages to open the desk. Inside is a gun. There's blood on the butt of it and one shot fired but a quick look will reveal the shell is there on the floor, ricochetted from where it blew off a desk leg.
Time has been ticking away. There's just a few minutes left before the names are announced. You'll have to remember what you've found to pass the information along later. You've got some dancing to get to.