Ψiioniic (
xanthous) wrote in
thecapitol2013-05-08 01:43 am
Entry tags:
[OPEN]
Who| The Psiioniic, the other trolls, and YOU! It might lean heavily towards trolls, but anyone is welcome to join them!
What| Watching the final week of the Games.
Where| The Training Center common area.
When| Final week!
Warnings/Notes| Trolls everywhere. And also mentions of violence, death, and etc in passing.
It's probably not unusual for people to group together and watch the violence unfolding. The Psiioniic certainly doesn't see why it would be strange, and he looks remarkably unimpressed as a recap plays some especially gory scenes. He seems to be prepared for a crowd, with plates of food nicked from the District 2 suites scattered around him. He even prepared a sign for his little shindig:

Of course, most people won't be able to read the sign, and do you even know how long it took him to find a marker even close to the proper shade of yellow? Too long, that's what. But now he's prepared for the final cullwatch, and ready to spend time with members of his species. And people who might be curious as to what the hell he's scrawled on the sign.
(You would think something like "fiinal cullwatch" is pretty self-explanatory, but you could never be sure with aliens.)
What| Watching the final week of the Games.
Where| The Training Center common area.
When| Final week!
Warnings/Notes| Trolls everywhere. And also mentions of violence, death, and etc in passing.
It's probably not unusual for people to group together and watch the violence unfolding. The Psiioniic certainly doesn't see why it would be strange, and he looks remarkably unimpressed as a recap plays some especially gory scenes. He seems to be prepared for a crowd, with plates of food nicked from the District 2 suites scattered around him. He even prepared a sign for his little shindig:

Of course, most people won't be able to read the sign, and do you even know how long it took him to find a marker even close to the proper shade of yellow? Too long, that's what. But now he's prepared for the final cullwatch, and ready to spend time with members of his species. And people who might be curious as to what the hell he's scrawled on the sign.
(You would think something like "fiinal cullwatch" is pretty self-explanatory, but you could never be sure with aliens.)

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Except. Except that there was no fighting allowed here in the Capitol. They were supposed to save that shit for the arena. And if he doesn't go and talk to the Initiate now, the psycho would just use it as an excuse to do something really nasty when they get to the arena.
Almost against his will, Karkat stands up and walks over to the Initiate.
"Yeah," he growls, "what do you want?"
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"WAS PAYING NOTE, LITTLE VANTAS," he says. "Motherfucking note was up and paid. SAW OF A DEATH TWOFOLD BY YOUR HANDS. No inheritance to you of an ill for the cull, then? OR WOULD THIS BE A FIRST FUCKING TASTE? Would find surprise in that an elder sticks to you still, were the hypocrisy not already fucking apparent."
A growl hums just under his words but his smile stays.
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"Yeah, well, he's pretty good about not judging when it comes to that stuff," Karkat says, his annoyance clear from his tone of voice. "And I had culled before the arena." Only a handful of times and all just because strangers had seen his blood and he'd panicked like fuck afterward the first time because he hadn't culled anyone before, but it still counted.
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He couldn't care for what reason the cull was made. A cull was a cull was a motherfucking cull.
In a darker tone he says, "Do you think at he won't diregard you for his 'cause', should opportunity rise for him?"
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"You don't know him, little vantas," he sneers. "YOU DON'T EVEN MOTHERFUCKING KNOW AT WHO I AM. But a troll can learn. LEARN THEY FUCKING CAN. And a preacher seeks for it thusly. THUSLY HE FUCKING SEEKS OF IT FOR THE BROTHERS AND SISTERS BELOW THE HOLY TWO. Would he like to know who it is I am to be IN YOUR TIME?"
He doesn't know when this troll from. He doesn't actually care. He's an indigo; the only ones longer lived than he were the fish. And as far as he's concerned, if he is to be The Highblood, as the Helmsman said, he will always be.
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(Much as he hates to think of his dumb eternally high clown friend as being a genetic copy of this douchebucket, it's pretty fucking obvious in retrospect.)
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"Now how the fuck WOULD YOU FIGURE that?" He growls. He remembers now, Karkat had mistaken him for another. But that proved nothing. There were other indigos, other capricorns. "WOULD BE MOTHERFUCKING UNWISE OF YOU TO DISREGARD OFFERING, WRIGGLER. Would figure at you to have an interest as to who the fuck YOUR MOTHERFUCKING HIGHBLOOD SHOULD BE. Especially in your fucking standing."
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... and does he still believe in a lineage to a supposed motherfucking friend?"