thecapitol | (no subject)

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✘ donatello

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WHO| Don and Eliot
WHAT| Meeting somewhere
WHEN| One night before Arena 03
WHERE| ...excellent question! Somewhere in the Capitol. Probably somewhere in the apartments.
NOTES| Nothing!

It was the first time in about two days that Donatello emerged from his room.

He wasn't being reclusive. No, really. Though admittedly the celebrity that he's gotten from this world has been exhausting, but in reality, he had been doing homework. Said homework involved watching the two Arenas of the 75th Hunger Games on his television (or perhaps holovision? seemed more appropriate) - watching his fellow tributes, looking at their fighting styles, their methods for survival, their adaptability, and so on.

Don despised the whole affair, and really generally despised killing. However, he realized - much to his extreme displeasure - if he was going to persevere, he at least had to try to make an effort to not die a lot. Perhaps even win. Which meant probably killing people. At least it would get him out of the Arena, but then of course it was a question of what to do next.

He finally left the District 9 apartments around midnight, still pondering those questions. Anyone who is to find him will find him pacing around the various floors, a frown on his face.

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Eliot couldn't sleep. He paces the District 3 suite for a bit, trying to figure out a more solid plan to get Momoko and Ariadne out of the Arena this time. Granted, he probably wouldn't be able to get them both out but if he could get even one of them free of this cycle, he'd count it as a win.

After almost an hour and his escort all but yelling at him for waking her up, he decided to take the elevator down to the training floor. Some action should help clear his mind. To his surprise, the large room wasn't empty. The turtle-man he'd fought seemed to be aimlessly wandering between the stations. He paused, considering going over to speak with him before he remembered seeing Grey at the interviews. Instead, he walked over to one of the punching bags and began to pound away.

"Hmm?"

Don's train of thought and pacing was interrupted by the sound of someone beating up on things. He blinked, then shook his head, focusing on the things going on around him in his immediate vicinity-

Wait. Someone beating up on things? How did he get to the training arena?

...Actually...never mind. It was obvious how, at least to him. At least back home, when his mind wandered, he had things at a desk he could attack. Here? Not so much.

"Oh." Don frowned to himself, peeking to see someone was indeed using the punching bags. "Hey there?"

Eliot paused at the other's voice. "Yeah?" he asked, catching the punching bag as it swung back toward him. "Did you want something?"

"Oh, no. Nothing." Don shrugs. "I just, uh, didn't notice you there. Sorry."

Eliot nods. "I, uh... I'm sorry about... You know..." He gestures awkwardly at the other Tributes wrist. "You seem like one of the sane ones."

"Oh...no, its fine. I understand." Don gave a chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I try. Some of this stuff is pretty overwhelming, though."

"This stuff?" Eliot asked quietly. "You mean the dying? Or the kids?"

He rubbed his face firmly. "They shouldn't be in this. Especially Momoko."

"...Both, really."

Don looked around at Eliot's last words. He was right. Kids shouldn't generally be forced to kill others like it was entertainment. Yeah, to be fair, he himself wasn't exactly an innocent sunflower, given the life he'd lived. And he was pretty sure that he was no older than the kids were - he was 17(ish) himself. Heck, he didn't know everyone's age - for all he knew he was the youngest tribute.

And yet.

"Dying for me...its something I have to expect. For others here, though...that's the thing, though, isn't it?" He sighed. "Its the kids like Momoko...or Lottie...who used to be put into the games all the time before we were brought. 'A male and a female between the ages of 12 and 18', from each district in this place, that was the law. It didn't matter their skill."

At this he looked out the window, his arms crossed.

"It just mattered they put on a show."

Edited 2012-08-03 13:47 (UTC)

"Lottie?" Eliot asked with a slight frown. He hadn't followed the interviews enough to connect names and faces. In a lot of ways, he didn't want to. He was going to have to kill too many of them. "Which one is she?"

He sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I saw the Treaty." He shook his head, his upper lip curling in disgust. "At least most of us are grown, but... I want to get at least the kids out this time. Or one of them, anyway."

"The blonde girl from New Orleans," Don replied. "The one they placed in District 8."

After that, he listened to Eliot, nodding. Still, he looked troubled.

"That's part of the trouble, though. Even if we managed to get one of them out as the victor, it doesn't guarantee they'll get out of Panem and out of harm's way. At best they'll just become Mentors like Shepard or Max - giving advice about what the Arena is like before they have to watch us die again. Its just a means of a perpetual...perpetuation of the system."

At this, he gave a slight wince as he thought more about it, his own memories not helping.

"At worst, anything could happen."

"She and Momoko are friends, aren't they? I think I saw them together in the Arena."

Eliot nodded, grimacing. "I know. But at least they won't have to kill anymore. Watching someone die is..." He shook his head. "It's hard. But killing someone... They shouldn't have to lose themselves like that. If we can stop just that much, it'd be worth it."

"That's also true."

Stuck between a rock and a hard place. That's what this situation really was. Both possible answers were inherently wrong.

"I'm pretty sure they are friends. And...you're right." Don closed his eyes. "Its not fair. They shouldn't have to kill. They're not killers. No matter what the Capitol might try to do."

"If we can just keep them safe until the end," he said, really just thinking out loud. "At least one of them would make it out, then. Even if we could get Tate and Grey early on, well, anyone who would target them just for being weaker, it would give them a better shot."

"Yeah." Don frowned as he thought about Tate's role in his own death, inevitable as it had been even beforehand, as well as the outcome of that other guy's interview. "At least. The one good thing is that at least with Tate...at least from what I can tell, watching his Arena performances...he favors certain weaponry over others. Not sure about that other guy just yet."

A pause.

"There's also other tributes that have appeared for the next arena - who knows which ones we have to look out for among that group as well since we haven't really seen them in action yet."

Edited 2012-08-06 16:41 (UTC)

"Oh?" Eliot looked at Don out of the corner of his eyes. "Such as?

"Grey is... Well, he's obviously unstable. He's also stronger than he looks. Seems to attack from the shadows when you're weakened or not looking for him."

Not that he's giving the mad tribute that opening again.

"I guess we'll have to see about the others. Not just their fighting styles, but who they are."

"Knives, primarily. Or anything that can act or be molded like one - he knows how to improvise somewhat." Don nodded. "Small and sharp weapons for cutting and stabbing, basically."

At this, Don looked up at Eliot, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Attack from the shadows, huh? I guess he must think himself a ninja."

Eliot nodded. That fit with what he'd seen during his fight with the blond tribute.

He grinned at Don's joke. "Ha! He wishes! More like he's a devious coward. Still a threat, though."

"Yeah." Don nodded. "He can definitely do damage, as long as he thinks he as an advantage."

"So we make sure he never has own," Eliot said. "Did you see anyone else that will be a problem? I didn't meet everyone in the Arena and I've been too busy looking into... other things to watch any replays."

"Well..."

Don began to pace a bit, trying to get his thoughts into focus. He doesn't ask about those other things Eliot might be referring to. He figures its probably parties or something of that sort, since everyone whose in the Arena is constantly being asked to them.

"There's Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss that come to mind. They're both FBI agents, and if Mr. Flickerman's interviews are any indication, they're actually partners back where they come from, so they know how to take people down lethally. They allied in the last Arena and lasted pretty long, given the conditions."

Pace.

"Garrus Vakarian and Kaidan Alenko are similar, except they operated in space and it looks like they know my mentor Shepard from where she comes from. Given she won the first round, those two also know how to get far in the Arena, though in all four cases, they seem to be a bit more favored towards firearms? Not that not having one fully hinders them."

More pacing.

"Granted, these guys don't seem to be in the league of Gray or Tate - they seem relatively sane..."

Eliot frowned thoughtfully. "I haven't met Derek or Emily," he said slowly. "But they'll definitely be able to fight if they're FBI. Garrus is supposed to be representing the same district I am. We talked some in the dressing room. He seems like he might be a good ally. The same with Kaiden. I guess we'll have to wait to see who survives the first few hours but they might be willing to help get the girls out. If not..." He sighed. "Well, I guess it doesn't make much difference."

Edited 2012-08-07 19:09 (UTC)

"Yeah..." At this, Don stopped, rubbing the back of his head. "In the end, there's only going to be one person left...some kind of conflict is going to be inevitable."

"And not just from each other," Eliot pointed out. "I get the impression they'd rather the bloodthirsty tributes win."

"Or at least the most entertaining ones," Don sighed. "Its just a show to them, after all. One they can bet on and watch within the safety of the Capitol."

"Then let's give them their show and get those girls out at the same time," Eliot said fiercely. "We guard them like our lives depend on it, take everyone else out. We'll face which of them gets out first when we get there."

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