The Execution of a Traitor

[gamemakers]

Who| Everyone.
What| Ariadne's public execution.
Where| Execution is in the public square, threads in the Districts
When| Mid-morning the day before the new arena.
Warnings/Notes| Within the first cut is an execution with nerve-attacking toxins, as well and gore and gun violence. Everyone is still locked into their districts.

Starting at 9:30, in every bedroom in the training center, an alarm has started. Everyone is to wake up, everyone is to see this, and anyone who hasn't wandered out by 9:45 is awoken by an Avox and escort into the suites common area.

The TV's turn on exactly at 10.


The morning is crisp, cool, even this close to the start of summer. Even being so early there is of course a crowd gathered. A small live audience, all Capitol citizens, all thoroughly checked for security, is shown entering by the cameras, gathering before the empty stage. Peacekeepers can be seen, en mass, around the edges.

Finally Cruentus walks out, barely containing her excitement. She tries to keep on a serious mask, but looks more like a child trying to behave so she isn't take away from the Santa greeting line.

"My father, unfortunately, has business to attend to, and couldn't be here. But as the head of the Tribute program, I am here for you instead. As you all know, on the night of the crowning ceremony, one of our guests tried to assassinate our beloved head Gamemaker, Plutarch Heavensbee." She pauses, giving the crowd time to discuss that, waiting patiently for them to settle.

"Ariadne was one of our guests, one of our victors. She was someone we welcomed here, with open arms. And we will not stand for this disrespect. Her act of rebellion, though sloppy and easy to unwind, was unacceptable!"

Another pause, longer, the crowd working themselves up more.

"We will not stand for this. We will not stand for people we welcome into our city, into our homes, to injure our kin. No more!"

With a quick gesture, she summons the two avoxes, Shepard and Holly, both former mentors themselves, to bring Ariadne out to the center of the stage, bound in chains.

For everything that went wrong, Ariadne is absolutely unapologetic. She knows full well that she got sloppy, and that she shouldn't have trusted Eva as far as she could throw her - that's the only explanation, she thinks; she's blissfully oblivious to Eva's public betrayal, but she knows something went wrong somewhere down the line. She's not sorry that she got caught, nor is she sorry that she's in this position now. She caused a stir; she got things going. That's better than the waiting game that everyone else is playing. She can respect it, but it wasn't for her.

Her back still stings from the shrapnel that hit her during the blast: the way that Shepard and Holly hold her makes it impossible to ignore as she stumbles out to the stage, eyes hardened as she looks up to stare at Cruentus over anyone else. She welcomes whatever punishment she's begotten; she's not afraid.

The crowd goes wild for a long time. Booing, loud, raucous - they seem just barely controlled. Hatred comes off in waves towards Ariadne, the first true target of a growing, seething hatred that still hasn't found its purpose yet.

Cruentus lets it go on, draws it out, encourages it. Then, finally, she holds up another arm.

"For such a vile crime, we have cooked up a special little potion for our traitor. Something any of those feeling a touch rebellious might keep in mind."

Glancing back, she gestures for Penny Hsiang to come forward, flashing the other woman the smile she had been struggling to keep in.

Penny steps forward and pulls a syringe out of her wide sleeves like a magician revealing a rabbit from a hat. She holds it up high, bearing a grin that could make someone queasy if it were aimed in their direction. For a brilliant, brief moment, she is the center of attention, and even the crowd hushes slightly.

"This is a poison fit for a traitor," she announces. "It's rapid-onset, degenerative. It strips away the parts of the brain that take the oomph out of bad memories. Then it disables the part of your brain that dampens pain signals. Then it kills you."

She takes a step towards Ariadne. A Peacekeeper presents Ariadne's vein.

"Special order," Penny says as she leans in and whispers in Ariadne's ear, giggling as if she were a teenager girl discussing cute classmates and not a torturer sinking a needle into Ariadne's arm. "Just for you."

Still, the crowd's response to her makes no difference. Cruentus' words don't make any difference, and Penny's barely concealed venom doesn't either. Ariadne is unflappable in the face of her own execution, for she saw that coming; Cobb's words come back to her in that moment - dying was how you got out of a dream, dying was how he and Mal got out of Limbo - and a strange sort of calm comes to her in waves, counteracting the hatred of the crowd and all of those around her.

Ariadne doesn't even turn when Penny whispers in her ear; she's never been much for gossip or chatting idly about cute classmates. She doesn't blink when the needle sinks into her vein, though it sends a shiver down her spine that she can't control. For a moment, she wonders just how good the Capitol is at capital punishment, and how long it's going to take for this to happen. Ariadne might theoretically have all the time in the world, but that doesn't mean she wants to drag it out.

It hits the moment after her mind goes blank again, after her last thought is fully formed; her mind is forced to go blank, simply because of the level of sheer pain that wracks her body. It comes to her in spasms, in seizing that is only contained by the fact that her hands are still bound, and she's still held by the Avoxes she once knew. She doesn't scream. Instead, Ariadne bites the inside of her cheek, the inside of her lip; her teeth go through the flesh - she tastes blood - and it's still not enough to detract from the poison running through her veins. She seizes violently for all to see, every inch of her body trembling and shaking and contorting in a fashion that would make anyone cringe.

Biology had never been her strong suit, and most of Penny's explanation of it went over her head; still, she can tell when the second part of the poison starts to kick in, when the pain almost fades away, leaving her numb and still shaking where she's held, a trickle of her blood spilling down her chin from where she'd bitten her mouth to shreds. And still, she doesn't scream; still, she doesn't tear her eyes away from Cruentus.

Holly and Shepard hold her high and as still as possible as the toxin causes her to twitch, jerk in their grasp. It looks better on TV, of course, but possibly, somewhere in their reprogramming, it is also a way to give Ariadne her last bit of dignity.

When her body finally stops convulsing, when her head drops to her chest and she goes still, the crowd cheers. And Cruentus smiles, knowing her message was sent loud and clear.

Penny steps back to the corpse. A gun materializes from the wide sleeves into her hands, and she places it straight to Ariadne's cold temple and pulls the trigger. She doesn't flinch when there's a bang, nor when the blood and bits of bone and brain and gunpowder spray over Holly's Avox robes, nor when the crowd celebrates even more uproariously.

"Can never be too sure," she says quietly, then to Holly, "go clean yourself up."

It's the last bit of this particular section of footage in the broadcast.


When the viewing is over, a Peacekeeeper appears to sets a box on a table set up just for this. Opening it, within each box are several wrist cuffs, the names of Tributes carved on the inside, one for each named Tribute, a simple motif relating to the District on the outside. A neat hand-written note from Cruentus sits in the white satin in the middle of the box.

A gift, for those among us who need to remember where they are.

It is clear the Peacekeeper is there for anyone who objects to putting their cuff on. After receiving the cuff, the Tributes are permitted to wander, although those with cuffs are given 'special attention' by their Escorts.

Comments

[retrieverchef]

Eliot watches silently as the Peacekeeper fastens the cuff around his Districtmate's wrist. He doesn't say anything about the execution. Not yet. Not with the Peacekeeper still there.

He walks over to the window beside the other Tribute. "There's worse ways of sendin' ya a message," he says quietly.

[saisamour]

He's a little taken aback by anyone approaching him; he had simply assumed that his fellow district members would make efforts to avoid him because of what the cuff signifies, so when he glances at the man it's with slightly wide, startled eyes.

And if he's to be honest, an accessory such as this warrants attention that he's almost close to incapable of enduring, timid and reserved as he is, so it is rather terrible, for him. "Such as?"

As he speaks, his fingers run against the bracelet again, this time unconsciously.

[retrieverchef]

"Your friends or family," he says, barely audible. "This." He gestures to the bracelet. "It's mostly ta scare ya. I'd probably have one if it weren't for... Other arrangements. I'd trade for one of the cuffs if I could."

[saisamour]

He has to strain his hearing to catch what the other man says but he does manage, and at that he frowns. He has no friends here, or family, and the only person important to him has left him even before he arrived at the Capitol. Only death remains and he doesn't have even that, at least not in the Arena.

The man's next words, though, causes him to blink. "Other arrangements?"

[retrieverchef]

"Working arrangements." He really doesn't want to get too much more specific if he can avoid it. "Meeting with the more elite sponsors. I can't forget where I am or what I'm doing here."

It hasn't changed his plans, though. He still wants to liberate this country like he did Croatia. It's merely slowed him down.

[saisamour]

There's an almost invisible tilt of his head as he considers his district mate's response; perhaps he might not want to tell him everything about those arrangements, and he has no desire to pry for fear of bringing in awkwardness into their conversation.

Instead, he goes back to respond to the man's earlier statement. "I am not afraid of them, monsieur."

[retrieverchef]

He nods. "Good. Just be cautious."

[saisamour]

Marius glances back at the cuff on his wrist. "It seems that it might be difficult, here, what with eyes always watching vigilantly." Not that he was being particularly cautious about expressing his disapproval of the Games, though.

[retrieverchef]

Eliot nods. "It can be. There are places, though. Eyes are always watching but there are places where ears don't listen."

[saisamour]

He blinks then, looking intrigued and perhaps a little bit bewildered. "And you know where such places are, monsieur?"

[retrieverchef]

"One of them, anyway." Eliot smiles. "It tends to be pretty windy on the roof."

[saisamour]

Well, that's one place, at least, for him to go, if ever he requires it. (And he will, he knows; like the battle on the barricades he will fight just the same in this world.)

"Thank you. I will take that into consideration."

[retrieverchef]

"Glad I could help." He pauses. "If there's ever anythin' I can do..."

[saisamour]

There's another look of surprise, and he gives a sidelong glance at the other people in the room for a moment, wondering whether anyone is listening to them. He lowers his voice, just a little more, when he speaks again.

"A friend told me once, that even the sleeping eventually wake." He hopes that's enough to get the point across: if they rise, he wants to know who they are.

[retrieverchef]

Eliot smiles grimly. "That they do, Marius. And they move in their sleep as they wake up."

Marius isn't the only one who wants to know who they are. Eliot doubts anyone will tell him anything, though. Not with his mask of perfect Capitol whore.

[saisamour]

Of course. It's strange how he's only realizing this now; he and his other district member are not the only ones with cuffs. There will be Enjolras, he is almost certain. Who else, though? But what can they do, and are they enough to not fall, not like Ariadne, not like the barricades back in Paris?

Regardless, the assurance stirs something in him again, and he has this man to thank for that. "I will remember your offer of assistance, monsieur...?"

[retrieverchef]

"My name is Eliot." He turns back to the window. "I don't think I caught your name."

[saisamour]

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Marius Pontmercy." He keeps his eye on Eliot, however; all of a sudden he doesn't want to see the people of the Capitol continuing to cheer.

[retrieverchef]

Eliot's smile is visibly forced. "It's good ta meet you, Marius."

[saisamour]

Oh. He's not very certain whether that smile is forced because of the Capitol crowd or because of himself, so he stares at the ground and fidgets, before raising his eyes once more.

"I-If you do not mind, monsieur, then I will take my leave."

[retrieverchef]

He nods. "Go ahead. We only have today left before we go back in."

[saisamour]

There's a beat before he returns the nod. "I pray we will not meet as enemies then."

And he leaves for his own room, to reflect on the events and what actions he is to take.