"District one is luxury goods," Sherlock replies, glancing around briefly. Of course the Capitol is good enough to hide its bugs and cameras well out of plain sight, and a wooded park is positively bursting with likely hiding places. Still, he feels the ambient noise from the drones gathered about the fountain and bustling to and fro between the nearby stores are about enough to drown out pertinent details. Best to keep the conversation away from anything too sensitive, though. He lowers his voice slightly.
"Wines, furs, other things this lot could live without but don't want to. Not as practical a sort of labor as, say, lumber, where you learn to swing an axe as soon as you can walk but it made them the Capitol's favorite lap dog. Afforded them certain privileges. Enough food rations to feed their growing children properly. A blind eye turned to anyone who thought to teach their young how to kill in preparation for the arena. So the rest of us sent in starving, terrified boys and girls while One, Two, and Four had trained killers queued up to volunteer."
This is obviously a particularly sore subject for him, and one he's spent a lot of time pondering, drafting little speeches and tirades addressed to no one in particular.
"Of course it all served the Capitol's purposes. A handful of skilled murderers makes for a more entertaining games, and if the districts start to hate each other for being able to prepare for the games, then they stop hating the Capitol for making them in the first place." He sniffs, frowning. "Rotten stuff, all of it. But now we've dropped it on your shoulders instead, so all's well! No need to get righteous about it anymore."
no subject
"Wines, furs, other things this lot could live without but don't want to. Not as practical a sort of labor as, say, lumber, where you learn to swing an axe as soon as you can walk but it made them the Capitol's favorite lap dog. Afforded them certain privileges. Enough food rations to feed their growing children properly. A blind eye turned to anyone who thought to teach their young how to kill in preparation for the arena. So the rest of us sent in starving, terrified boys and girls while One, Two, and Four had trained killers queued up to volunteer."
This is obviously a particularly sore subject for him, and one he's spent a lot of time pondering, drafting little speeches and tirades addressed to no one in particular.
"Of course it all served the Capitol's purposes. A handful of skilled murderers makes for a more entertaining games, and if the districts start to hate each other for being able to prepare for the games, then they stop hating the Capitol for making them in the first place." He sniffs, frowning. "Rotten stuff, all of it. But now we've dropped it on your shoulders instead, so all's well! No need to get righteous about it anymore."