thecapitol | We closed our eyes [OPEN]

Who | Sigma Klim, Akane Kurashiki and you!
What | Sigma breaks into the District 7 Suites like a maniac, and then meets with Akane.
Where | District 7 Suites, and later heading towards the District 2 Suites.
When | Final days of the Arena.
Warnings/Notes | Kyle's mun is on Hiatus at the moment, and so Kyle hasn't been "resurrected" yet.

As he reached the seventh floor, Sigma shot out of the elevator like a bat out of hell. A rather confused Avox stared at him as he marched determinedly around a suite he did not belong to. Dr. Klim burst uninvited into the common room, the dining room, the deck, scanning each for the face he was looking for... nothing. Apprehension growing, he was off like a shot towards the room he'd once guided a very drugged up Tribute to during Valentine's Day, and threw open the door without knocking. Empty. Gone.

For a few short seconds Sigma froze with terror, but managed to collect himself and close the door without slamming it. He coughed, muttered a half-hearted "I'm sorry," to whomever was watching and headed towards the exit as though nothing had happened, his expression hard. Perhaps the man was with Akane- he had to find Akane. Surely they had brought her back, the poor old woman had barely been given a chance. Or had the Capitol targeted her on purpose as punishment for Sigma's mostly nonviolent nature? Images of the Gamemaker's muttations tearing Akane and his son apart flashed through his mind. Sigma stilled his shaking hands as he pressed the button to call the elevator. With luck, he could walk into the District 2 Suites calmly and without bringing down the floor.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The Avox moved to comply with the request without Neffa's having to add anything. He gave Sigma's joke the smile it warranted, and let the remark about the Arena go quietly past him, without sinking in teeth. Distraction was something he was willing to offer - and the closer it got him to learning what was going on, the better. The matter was clearly one close to the man's heart.

He waved off the title. "Please-- Neffa is fine. My mother's name is just for business." (You're with a friend here, he was saying.) "I'm a magician of the city of Ristopa - a city much like this one, but not as brightly lit." The sardonic twist to his mouth gave the lie to that statement. "Less murder, too, in general."

Sigma made himself comfortable while he waited, unzipping his jacket, rolling down a sleeve. He listens attentively, smiling curiously as Neffa mentioned his home. The Doctor smirks to hear that it hadn't been as grim as the Capitol, but does not comment, as it wasn't the part that captured his interest. "A magician?" At last the Doctor looks hopeful - energetic, even. The few others he'd met with powers had been reluctant to discuss it with him. "Is that so? I don't recognize the city name, and so I presume you're not from a world where that word describes cheap parlor tricks and amusements."

The Avox returned with his drink, but Sigma leaned forward, completely oblivious. "If you'll permit me to ask, what sort of abilities do you have?"

This was a deeply pleasant surprise. Neffa was used to a rather cooler reception when he brought up his work - Enjolras' barely-polite skepticism, Asha's suspicion, or the Capitol's fear - and to see Sigma's active interest was gratifying. Back home his title had commanded something resembling respect, and the lack of it here had been difficult (galling) to get used to.

He smiled, quite clearly taking Sigma's interest as a compliment - though he shook his head, as though to brush it off. "I'm afraid what Ristopa calls magic is rather unspectacular compared to what most here imagine." In his experience, most people here heard "magic" and immediately assumed him to be a miracle-worker - calling fire from the sky, tearing mountains down, banishing darkness with lightning bolts. The senseless, useless stuff of epic poetry. "I bring nothing to the table but an expensive education and an infinite supply of words, in exchange for which power may be bought off those spirits who will sell it. Power once bought has a diversity of uses, of course - but my abilities have very little to do with it."

There was nothing genuine about his modesty. Magic was not a fool's discipline, and not all who entered an apprenticeship completed it - even fewer with a much success as he had. But he'd run afoul of people's misunderstanding here before, their inevitable disappointment when his work did not mesh with their expectations, and modesty was a safeguard - purposefully underselling his life's work, so that they could not hurt him with knowledge of its true value to him. Sigma seemed kind, and his interest genuine - but until Neffa knew whether or not he was expecting grand conjury, he stayed cheerfully cautious.

"I see. So in your world, magic is an academic pursuit?" Sigma's interest never faltered. Rather, it appeared to increase: he thought he'd very much like to know how Neffa's world was run, for it was something the new future would need. "Sounds like there's a fair bit of business about it as well. That's fascinating..." He recognized that Neffa was wisely concealing his talents, and politely did not press, not yet.

The Doctor smiled knowingly. "I don't find it unspectacular at all. These people aren't aware, here, they don't understand such concepts. In my universe, even the smallest of powers went a long way."

Neffa felt his polite interest turn suddenly, sharply genuine. It was gratifying enough that Sigma had used the word "business" - Precisely, Neffa wanted to shout, not miracles but business! - but more than that, his interest seemed personal, somehow, and Neffa grabbed hold of that thread of conversation with both hands.

"Your universe," he said, and only the way he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, betrayed how eagerness. Sigma spoke with the unmistakeable air of one who knew, who had had to deal himself, maybe, with how wrong the people here could be about something so vital - gods, he hoped he was reading that correctly, that his frustrated wish for understanding was not blinding him. "Do you mean to say that you're something of a magician yourself, sir?"

Sigma was quiet a moment, reflecting, stuck in an emotion somewhere between pride and regret. "That is true. I awoke to time magic when I was a young man. But I was an exception rather than a rule, and the way in which my world dealt with us was quite abhorrent."

The Doctor wondered if he should reveal much to Neffa, but gave the man the benefit of the doubt in the end, deciding it couldn't hurt. There were few who could steal his powers. Sigma's expression grew stony, as it usually did when he launched into an explanation. "What you might call 'magic' in my world were merely simple skills, rarely physical. Telepathy with one's sibling, longevity, short conversations with people from the near past or future." Sigma gave an almost shrug intended to downplay their significance. Truly, nothing he had listed was particularly earth-shattering. "But unfortunately, it was kept secret. No government wished to make it public fact when they could build a secret army of Espers, and so training was always carried out illegally by men who would even kill children to force out small abilities."

A bit wearied by the admission, Dr. Klim rubbed his artificial eye, and then smiled enigmatically. "You could say I was in a position of influence over the future. And so I believe I could learn a lot from you, Neffa."

We closed our eyes [OPEN]

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