thecapitol | (no subject)

(no subject)

Who| Everyone
What| A chance for the teams to meet, mingle, and, lets be honest, for goodbyes to be said.
Where| The common area.
When| Evening before the attack, about a day after Creuntus' network announcement.
Warnings/Notes| Time is going to be a little ~~more~~ wonky then normal, if you haven't noticed. They will be going out to attack "tomorrow" but that thread will not, likely, be posted tomorrow, to give people time to play in this one, etc.

There is food and drink, plenty of it, but no decoration, and it is clear this "party" is no sort of celebration. There is the small spattering of Peacekeepers still in the Capitol, those not on duty at the edge of the boundary.

A long table at the front has a set up for each team. Everyone has a folder with who is in their team, who is watching their team, a list of the various weapons they will have. On the list is a flame thrower, a handful of small explosives, and an automatic weapon for each team member. There are no weapons laid out for the Tributes to handle, however - those were waiting for them elsewhere, for when the mission truly started. Nor does the folder mention that the weapons all switch off outside of the combat area, but it's also not a secret, or a surprise.

Each folder also includes the rather useless stats and images they have of the creatures-the photos are blurry, the stats mainly stack up to "they are very deadly" and a collection of the various bits of information put forth by other tributes who seem to know more then the Capitol. Last, a detailed map of both the neighborhood, and the tunnels for them to study.

Another table has folders for the intel, with much of the same information. Last, a third table is set up for those that are staying at home. Those folders contain some basic first aid information, and a list with what sort of basic medical supplies and food stuff is in the training center.

Each table set up has an Avox or two to hand out the folders. Creuntus is no where to be seen, and you would be lucky to catch any of her team. She knows where she doesn't want to be. The furniture has been dragged to facilitate the conversation of small to medium sized groups. Say, about the size of a team and their Intel.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Harley grinned brightly and took the hand shaking it energetically.

"Watson huh? Pleased ta meetcha! I knew we already had a Sherlock running around here. I'm Dr. Harleen Quinzel, but you can call me Harley!"

She felt like she had to trot out her full title because...come on Watson? How could she not!

Joan blinked, taken aback by the energetic shake, by the mention of Sherlock, by her full title...pretty much by Harley in general. She's seen this sort of behavior before, but that guy was really, really high at the time.

"Harley. Nice to meet you too." She gives her a slightly forced smile and extracts her hand as tactfully as possible. "Are you a medical doctor or a PhD?"

She straightened up and her hand dove into the front of her blouse producing a pair of glasses. She placed them on her face so quickly it was like a magician's slight of hand. With the other hand she pulled her hair back into a single, more businesslike ponytail. Even her voice dropped into a softer, more soothing sound.

"I was previously employed at Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane as one of their on site psychologist. Graduated top of my class from Gotham University in the fields of Psychology, Sociology, and dance~" The last part had a playful wink attached to it.

Joan had to laugh a little. The woman was funny, and obviously trying to be so, which meant Joan didn't feel guilty about laughing at the crazy person, which Harley obviously was as well.

"Trained in psychology and worked at an asylum. Sounds like good preparation for this place."

"Even better preparation after I became a resident." Harley let go of her hair and it snapped back into place with two bouncing ponytails. The glasses vanished again and her voice became more high pitched and less refined the accent was strong.

"You know the old story. Girl throws herself into her work, devotes herself to her craft. Falls in love. Goes bonkers. It's a tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme." She cackled at her own joke as she often did.

Again the eyebrows rose in surprise, and she opened her mouth as if to say something, but closed it slowly.

"Right. I'm afraid that's not a tale I'm particularly familiar with."

It occurred to her that Harley might actually be dangerous, and she made a mental note to avoid her in the arena.

"Aw that's too bad!" Harley smiled sympathetically. "Not much for getting out and about? Surely you've gone out on dates and had lovers! You're much too pretty to be locking yourself away from that sorta stuff!" the bubbly blond declared.

"Ha. Believe me, I've had plenty. Managed to not go 'bonkers,' though. Although that's probably up for interpretation. So," she went on, determined to change the subject, "how long have you been here?"

Harley seemed to put some thought into it.

"Time is a little wonky here sometimes...so I can at least say with confidence I've been here for the last two arenas. I arrived just in time for the one that was all, mutants in run down Disneyland. And then in this last one they killed me and sent me to the wasteland when I so CLEARLY deserve to be in candyland."

"How about you?"

Joan wasn't so sure that having Harley in the candy arena would have been a good idea. The woman seemed like she was already permanently on a major sugar rush.

"I came in late to the last arena. I wasn't there at the start to be poisoned, but they still put me in the desert arena too."

Harley's smile became one of sympathy.

"Well if we make it through this whole Alien death match thing, hopefully the next arena is fun."

She had a funny idea of fun, but at least she was honest.

"So what about you Jo! What's your story before you got to go wandering around in the dirt and weeds?"

"Fun. Right."

Still, she smiled back, more amused by the situation than hopeful about the next arena. At the question, she nodded.

"Before coming here I was a consulting detective."

"Ooo fun!" She gave a little hop. "I knew plenty of those back home. Some real great guys. Some of them would even cuff me and drive me back to my cell without coppin' a feel." Another laugh. Because Harley sees herself as hilarious.

"Of course if I'd have to pick, It's a draw. I'm pretty keen on my pal Eddie, brilliant guy...actually he's a tribute but I haven't seen him since I got back from the last arena. Then there's this sassy girl Renee Montoya? I like her style. She doesn't take guff from anyone."

She mimed a pugilistic stance and made like she was boxing with an invisible opponent.

"Sounds like my kind of detective," she says mildly. Harley is definitely very interesting, but all that bounciness makes Joan somewhat uneasy.

"Handcuffed you. Just because you escaped? Or because you had committed a crime?"

"Both. And frequently." She chuckled and sighed rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

"Good times. Running around not giving a care about what people though. Me and my Puddin' or sometimes me and my best Gal Pal Red. I did the solo crime lord thing for awhile but turns out I wasn't too good at it. Got most my henchmen offed in one way or another. But at least I tried right? In this male dominated career field there's gotta be girls like me willing to stand up and remind them that we can be funny, sexy, AND criminal masterminds!"

"...right."

Great. It sounded like Harley was essentially Moriarty, only insane and on amphetamines. If this were home, she would point Gregson and Bell her way. But no, they're in a place where murder is celebrated. Or at least murder of the right people.

"So, did you commit crimes yourself? Or did you just mastermind?"

"Well of course!" Harley grinned that wicked unstable grin, "They say anything worth doing right is worth doing it yourself." She teased.

Then she sighed and stretched idly. "Of course those days are behind me if we never get out of here. No more half hearted attempts to walk the straight and narrow. No more making the guards uncomfortable when they pat search me for weapons. No more Red or Puddin." And just like that the giggling girl was looking nostalgic and lonesome.

"This world is great and all, absolutely nuts. But I wish I could take some of the people I've met here home with me. They'd be happier there even if it is Gotham City."

The look on her face made Joan soften slightly. The woman was clearly mentally unbalanced and dangerous, and should be locked up. But she was also a human being, lost in this place, just like Joan. Some compassion seemed appropriate. "I think most people would be happier in a lot of other places. I know what you mean, though. I'm missing people from home, too. And it's not like they're going to let me do any sort of official investigations. They clearly don't want the 'wrong' people getting any information."

"Ugh! I know right?" She held up her arm displaying a cuff that she had decorated with red and black fabric.

"I got this thing because they're so paranoid they thought I was gonna cause trouble! I mean sure I may have been discussing making bombs and finding ways to bring the chaos of the arena to the city...but that was just for fun. Who wouldn't want to be thrust into their favorite reality show?"

She had a bracelet. Interesting.

"Yeah, they gave those to a couple of my friends, too. I keep expecting them to give me one, too. Although, I think I'm a lot less likely to try to blow things up."

She smiled.

"Honestly, with the way they go crazy over the Games around here, it's surprising citizens don't try to get in on the action."

"I know right?" Harley rolled her eyes and tucked her hands behind her head in a casual motion.

"But god forbid you say a bad word about their precious games! I mean what did they expect when they brought me here? I'm not exactly known for being a peaceful and logical member of my own society."

Though she was apparently painfully self aware.

"I don't think they have any idea who we are before they bring us here. If they did, I don't think they would have brought most of us."

She leans a little closer, lowers her voice a bit.

"And I'm pretty sure that this alien thing is an example of that. I think they pulled it in from its world and it was too much for them to handle. Really, I'd be rooting for the thing if it wasn't killing everything in its path."

"Ooo!" A light went on in Harley's eyes at the suggestion. "By jove Watson you're every bit as smart as you are pretty! I can't believe I didn't think of that." But she seemed to like the idea.

The compliment and its wording were...unexpected, and she blinked, but went on.

"It's sick, but I guess that's why they brought us all here. To have us turn on each other, kill each other. Why not do that in this case, too?"

Harley nodded enthusiastically "See and here I thought they were just trying to create a better monster and this one got away from them. But now that I think about it, they've created dragons and sand worms and...whatever that abomination was in the wasteland. If they could control those I don't see why this one is so much trouble."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only