thecapitol | it's never ever too late [open]

Entry tags:

it's never ever too late [open]

WHO| Ariadne and whomever wants to visit her
WHAT| Ariadne is musing to herself on the various occurrences of the Arenas.
WHEN| the night of the closing ceremonies.
WHERE| the training centre rooftop.
WARNINGS/NOTES| none right now.

Ariadne still wasn't entirely sure about all of this. All of this...killing, and maiming, and the fact that they were all brought back. What was she supposed to think of that? About the fact that somewhere out there in the world, someone was more than likely concerned with where she had disappeared off to; about the fact that she had curb-stomped a man to death on the opening day of the second Arena.

It was like everything that the Games were was suddenly rolling up on her, crushing her with implications and accusations that she had changed; that if she hadn't already, she would. There was a lump in her throat as she stared out at the glittering abyss that was known as the Capitol, hot tears barely pricking her eyes and refusing to fall.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"It all depends on what it is," she murmurs to herself. "With us being given no information, and nothing to go off of, who can really say what's happening here?

"We're expendable to the people who have the power to save us. It doesn't matter how much we'll fight for each other; if they want us dead, they'll have us dead," she points out, brows furrowing tightly at the thought. She knows it for a fact, too - that interrogator confirmed it for her in no uncertain terms. We don't have to bring you back.

An excellent way to keep people in line, if she thinks about it.

"Mine apparently aren't worth the time. I can't say I'm surprised."

Eliot shrugs. "So we find out. People say a lot when they don't think you're listening. Or when they think you're not a threat."

"So we'll just have to save ourselves. There's worse fates than death out there." Not that he expects her to know that yet. She's young and seems sheltered.

"Oh?"

The look on her face suggests she's not sure anyone would ever think he wasn't a threat. It's vaguely amused at the same time, but it's still clear enough.

"You've never been stuck in limbo before," she tells him softly, expecting him to ask the moment the words were out of her mouth.

"District six," Ariadne offers, though she doubts he'd have seen them around, "They're both morphling addicts. It's like...a drug, apparently."

He raised an eyebrow at her expression. "You think I could've gotten a date back home if I always looked like I was about to beat the crap outta someone? I don't fight all of the time. And sometimes people think you're less of a threat if you seem like you're just the dumb muscle."

"No. I haven't. You mean you died sometime before you came here?"

He drank some more coffee. "I'm... not entirely surprised. Going through this as a child? At Momoko's age? And knowing no one would be brought back... As I said, killing takes lot out of a person."

"Most people don't think anyone who spent most of her time in the library would ever get a date either," Ariadne replies to that, a small smirk playing at her lips. Exceptions for everything; no one could look like they wanted to off people all the time, though she wasn't sure she remembered Eliot ever smiling.

"Limbo isn't the same as death. I was trapped in a dream." The explanation sounds strange, even though she's experienced it. Arthur would be so much better at all this, but she finds she doesn't half-mind the fact that she'll have to go into depth on that.

She can't deny that; killing certainly does take a lot out of a person. She's just an architect, so what does she know about killing and death? More than she wanted, really. Her eyes dart away from him, back to the skyline, the glittering lights that - if she squints - could remind her of Paris.

He actually chuckles a bit at her retort. "Well, I'm not most people. I don't find that terribly hard to believe at all."

"Trapped in a dream? You mean similar to a coma?"

Never mind that it took getting out of the library and into a warehouse filled with criminals to get aforementioned date, but she never really thought of Arthur as a criminal anyway. She just shrugs, looking mildly amused.

"No. Not really. Trapped in a coma, you can't wake up. Trapped in a dream, all you need is the right kick."

Eliot looks at her closely for a moment. "I'm going to assume you're not talking about some kind of nightmare. Care to explain?"

He keeps his voice light. While he is genuinely curious, he doesn't want her to feel like she has to tell him anything. Especially considering where they are.

She drops her voice a little, knowing that the nearest camera is still far away, but not wanting to chance anyone but Eliot hearing her. Ariadne has no idea what sort of things she might do to her - with her - if they knew, but she's not taking the risk.

"I used to build dreams back home. It was like architecture, but...out of nothing. No restrictions on what you could do; you could build a city in the clouds, if you were really driven. It's pure creation."

Eliot stares at her, completely intrigued by now. "So would that have been a form of entertainment, then, or..." He pauses for a moment. "And would that mean you could enter someone's dream?"

There were limits to how much she was willing to tell him, and that line was drawn right around where she had stopped. Ariadne offers him a little smile, secretive and perhaps a little coy, before shrugging. "It's a complicated process. I'd probably have to show you for it to make much sense, but without a PASIV, I can't. It's rare to find anyone who does it, though. It's sort of a...an upper-class hobby, if anything."

"It sounds like a potentially... useful hobby. If we could somehow find you a... PASIV, I think you said it was called?"

She nods in confirmation, pursing her lips a little, "I doubt you'll find one here, and even if you could, I doubt you would find anyone with the chemical knowledge to be able to produce the right compounds to keep you under. I couldn't even help with that; it wasn't my job."

He frowns thoughtfully. "So you couldn't to it with a normal sleep?"

"You'd wake up too soon," she muses, never having tried it without the PASIV. It doesn't help that she hasn't really had any dreams since arriving here, either; she thinks that might be a concerning turn of events. "It would never hold."

"What sort of drugs does it use?" he asks thoughtfully. He might not be a pharmacist but he damn well knows the black market. And someplace this corrupt and technologically advanced is bound to have a black market and something at least as good as what she's used to. It's just a matter of knowing how the drugs work.

She shrugs, leaning her cheek more heavily on one hand. She hasn't the slightest, and even if she did, she wasn't sure she wanted to be constructing things like that. The Capitol would just use them to wreak more havoc upon their minds.

He sighs. "What if I could find you a drug that would keep you and them asleep for an hour or two? Would that work? Or how long would you need?"

"I suppose that would work," she says, frowning a little. "But why? With everything else that's going on here..." Ariadne trails off, shaking her head a little, unable to believe most of it. "Why?"

"If you could get inside someone else's dreams..." He trails off briefly. "What's the chance anyone would realize when they woke that you really had been inside their dream? And people often dream about things that prey on their mind, about their plans..." He waits a bit to see if she's realized what he's inferring.

She catches on almost immediately, lips parting slightly in realisation the moment it happens. He's suggesting a sort of inception, though an even more basic version of it: plant an idea into a target's head not that they need to think a certain way, but just that they need to think about someone. In a place like this, she can see how it might work, how she could theoretically share a dream with one or two of the other Tributes, plant an idea that they need to watch out for her. Create a sense of notoriety before the Arenas have even started.

And perhaps drive a couple of them mad, if she kept it up.

The thought makes her frown, and she wonders if the entire idea isn't something she should just avoid.

"Even if you had a method of being able to keep both people under," Ariadne states, her voice dropping lower to make absolutely sure that the Capitol can't spy on them, "You'd need to be able to connect them, to make sure that you were in their dream. Otherwise, you'd only be in your own head. There are ways to tell if someone's been in your dream, or if you've been led into a dream not your own, but no one here would know them."

"How did you do it where you come from?" he asks, his voice equally low. "Connect to other people's dreams, that is?"

"The PASIV. Which is why I don't think it would work here. There isn't the technology," she states, brow still furrowed.

Eliot sighs disappointedly. "Well, it could have been useful. We could have learned a lot."

Her mouth is pursed slightly as she regards him. "Just what did you think you could do with it? You can't just go into someone's head like that, and pick their brain. It doesn't work like that."

it's never ever too late [open]

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man, we need a Cobb and/or an Arthur... maybe an Eames?

looks like Eliot's filling in pretty well for Cobb. :B (/tries her old Eames again)

but Eli doesn't know the tech

irrelevant!

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