thecapitol | (no subject)

WHO| Any Victors, and every tribute as they are removed from the arena.
WHAT| The Capitol would like to pick your brain.
WHEN| Each person is approached separately, so you can specify when and where they came from.
WHERE| A government office building
WARNING/NOTES| This is mandatory IC. If for some reason OOC you cannot tag in (hiatus, etc) talk to a mod and we can handwave thing.

Much like the Victors who were currently missing, each victor or tribute was approached by a pair in sleek, all black suits, with friendly smiles, who none the less were quite firm in leading their targets away.

It was, from there, a short trip to a very nondescript looking Capitol building, in cars so heavily tinted it would be hard even for those familiar with the city to know where they ended up. From there they are lead to an elevator, which goes down, deep, and out into a white hall way. The first door slid open to a room, as blank as everything else, where a small, slightly pudgy woman with blood red a-line hair gave a wide smile.

"Please, have a seat!"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Anything particularly interesting happen?"

Althought she doubted Ms. Cresta had much information for her, she would be the best bet to give something away.

Well, there was that one time she thought Finnick was going to die after he was stung in the middle of the street by a trackerjacker. But something tells Annie that this isn't exactly the information this woman is looking for. She would know all of that already. It wasn't exactly small news in the Capitol that the famously handsome Finnick Odair had been indisposed for a few days.

Before finally deciding on what she wants to say, she chews on her bottom lip and worries for a moment that no matter what she says, it isn't going to be what the woman wants to hear. "No? I... I don't think so."

"Good, dear."

This really wasn't going to be very useful, was it?

"What about at home? Hear anything new from there?"

She looks at the woman with wide, scared green eyes and shakes her head profusely. There hasn't been a word from home. Not even a message from her mother.

"Oh what a pity. I hope everyone's all right."

She smiled a saccrine smile, before moving on.

"How much do you retain of the Treaty of Treason Ms. Cresta?"

Her voice is whisper-soft, and she closes her eyes as she speaks. But she knows it. As children in school they had all learned it. Memorized it, from both requirement and repetition.

"In penance for their uprising, each district shall offer up a male and a female between the ages of 12 and 18 at a public "Reaping". These tributes shall be delivered to the custody of the Capitol, and then transferred to a public arena, where they will fight to the death until a lone victor remains. Henceforth and forevermore this pageant shall be known as 'The Hunger Games'."

"Very good dear."

She patted her hand reassuringly, giving her a very proud smile. Like a dog who had just sat for a treat.

"Do you understand how...high a price there is to the peace we have, Miss Cresta?"

She only bites her lip as she nods. She understands, in theory. But she isn't entirely sure that she agrees. "Yes."

"I hoped you would. Very good then. We should get you back to your room."

Before she had a mental break down all over Cruentus's shoes, she thought with disdain.