The Gamemakers (
gamemakers) wrote in
thecapitol2013-09-27 07:39 pm
Entry tags:
- cassandra marko,
- commander shepard,
- harley quinn,
- sigma klim,
- terezi pyrope,
- the grand highblood,
- wesker,
- wyatt earp,
- ✘ andraia,
- ✘ armin arlert,
- ✘ azula,
- ✘ chris redfield,
- ✘ cinderella,
- ✘ homura akemi,
- ✘ howard bassem,
- ✘ ian gallagher,
- ✘ jack atlas,
- ✘ marius pontmercy,
- ✘ maximus,
- ✘ orc,
- ✘ peeta mellark,
- ✘ pepper potts,
- ✘ perry kelvin,
- ✘ pruna,
- ✘ shion,
- ✘ some ovmennet,
- ✘ the disciple
(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 littlemore 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.
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
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.

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She wants to roll her eyes at the mention of miracles. Instead, she just makes the head motion like she's doing it. "I intend to keep my unseeing eyes on everything, thank you very much. ...But you're right, no one wants to deal with the collateral damage you'll probably leave behind. I'll keep your path as clear as possible."
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"Girl, you can keep telling at to yourself that they ain't about all to be being a thing. BUT THAT DON'T KEEP THEM FROM BEING MOTHERFUCKING THINGS," He says, in response to the eye- or head, rather- roll. "If there is collateral it means at motherfuckers didn't up and stay out of his way. AND THEY WOULD FUCKING DESERVE IT. So clear path would indeed be motherfucking ideal."
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"So what all was that? THEY STILL FUCKING WITH YOU?" He asks.
no subject
She hops off, using it as a bit of a distraction. It turns her back to him a little bit, and she shrugs. "Just the usual, I guess... Still yelling about stupid shit. He's on the other team I'm managing. I can't really avoid him."
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"There shouldn't be no motherfucking usual," He points out. "UNLESS THIS WERE ALL TO BE INTENT AT TO MOTHERFUCKING HATE DATE." Which would explain the sudden flushing. "You're the one what's all being in charge of his particular motherfucking team. HE SHOULDN'T BE MOTHERFUCKING SAYING SHIT TO UNDERMINE IT LEST HE'S GOT A BETTER GODDAMN IDEA. Considering what all I know of the fucker, I'm doubting at that to be it, correct? IF IT WERE ALL TO BE ME I'D PUT HIM IN HIS GODDAMN PLACE."
He eyes her still. He's sure she can tell, even with her back turned. "Why the fuck put up with it all?"
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She turns back to him. "He's not my hate-date or whatever. It's how we've always been. Sort of. It's not exactly unusual; it's just never been this bad before." Not even after SGRUB, when everything was going to hell.
"He's just..." Jegus, this is embarrassing... "He's jealous. Of you."
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"JEALOUSY UNTO HE. And he's shouting at you? SISTER THAT DON'T MAKE FOR A LICK OF GODDAMN SENSE," He says. "What the fuck is he even jealous of?" Something is telling him it isn't his cull count.
... maybe his horns or height.
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"He thought we were dating. You know... Matesprits." She really can't force enough casualness into her tone to outweigh the flush of teal that creeps back into her ears. She briefly considers the pros and cons of chopping them off.
"I had to straighten him out on that point. And some other things. He's just a mess of unreasonable issues."
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He thought they were Matesprits. "HE THOUGHT WE WERE MATESPRITS?"
His hair is too short. Fuck him. Fuck this. His hair is too short and his ears flush and of course, of course he just can't flatten them enough. He can't bring his hands up to do it because, dammit, she'd see.
"That...so. WHY... WHAT ALL WOULD PUT THAT UP IN HIS HEAD?" He regains his footing. "For that motherfucking matter, why is it his goddamn business!"
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"It's not any of his business! But he just doesn't get that. He's so--" She makes a motion with her hands to emphasize her frustration. "...He likes me. Or hates me. I'm not sure which it is anymore, but he thinks that just because I've been spending more time with you than with him, there must be something going on."
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"OH BECAUSE HE'S THE MOTHERFUCKING WELCOMING COMMITTEE IS HE? He's sure made at for a lot of goddamn effort what to keep you near," He says. Even if it were black flirting, he shouldn't be letting Cuthbert in on it. A kismesis would be a little more protective of that which they made suffer he thinks. "THAT'S STUPID, AND HE'S MOTHERFUCKING STUPID. Can't motherfuckers just be--" Fuck. Fuck every Vantas and may they rot wherever they lay. He grinds his teeth. "WE'RE NOT... A MOTHERFUCKING THING... WHAT ALL IS LIKE THAT." He tugs at his hair. The sudden image comes to mind of her kissing him, the way the Neophyte did. He stomps it down furiously, all but shaking his head to get it out.
He huffs and grumbles, "Regretting for involvement with that fucker more and more every motherfucking day."
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"A-men to that," she mutters, though she's pretty sure that their idea on what exactly they regret is different. It's not that she hates him. She's not sure that she even could. She just... wants things to go back to normal. Not this mess that's become their relationship. If it's going to be like this now, she wishes she could just avoid him, so she can at least remember him without remembering this trainwreck, too.
He's right, though. It is stupid. But at least it's out there, and she doesn't have to worry about Karkat making things awkward between them.
"...Don't worry yourself about it. I'm pretty sure that I set him straight on that. He's going to hold his stupid grudges regardless, but at least that's one less thing on his list."
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He's still rather flushed, but he looks back to her anyway, trying to smooth his face out and all the color with it. They certainly didn't need this. Things between them could be irritating enough without all that thrown in.
"He supposes this list extends more than what all she is saying then?"
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"Yeah, there's more, but it's... also complicated. He thinks that by being friends with you and the Helmsman, I'm trying to replace our friends--" She expertly surrounds the word friends with a set of air quotes. "--back home, but he's wrong. Again. I'd never want to replace Sollux, and honestly, I told him that Gamzee wasn't fit to lick your boots. I think that's about when he really started yelling."
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Except... "THEY'RE FRIENDS? Gamzee and he? MY DESCENDENT AND..." He makes a face, like he has a bad taste in his mouth. "And who is sollux like to be then?" He's got a feeling, deep in his gut, that he may know. But he wants to hear it confirmed or debunked.
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The question about Sollux mellows her out a bit, though. She looks almost sad when she continues. "...Sollux was the Helmsman's descendent, as far as I can tell. They're nearly identical, and both really powerful psionics. He was one of my best friends, even despite his stupid moodiness." She doesn't know what else to say about him. There's too much to tell and not enough words to find.
"I miss him a lot."
no subject
And...
He didn't even have any idea. He keeps his face steeled, as much as he can, but even still it winds him some. They were pale. He blinks and he's small again, he sees Kan-- No. No, no. It didn't mean anything. It didn't have to mean motherfucking shit. It did not mean for fuck all. Never again shall such sin mark his name except it motherfucking did, didn't it? To bring ones of shared face to meet in mirror, he wonders why such motherfucking things the Messiahs wished of this. Surely there was some greater purpose.
Just as he had Mituna. His palest brother. His true friend. She describes him briefly as just that; a moody motherfucker, but a best friend all the same. But she speaks of him in another way too.
"...WAS?"
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"He died." She hesitates, reassesses her control on herself, considers her words. "...There was a creature after us out there. A demon. We had been hiding from him on a meteor, while he unleashed destruction on everything around us. We had plans to flee to a new place, where we hoped he wouldn't follow us to--but we had no means of travel. Even knowing what it would do to him, Sollux used his psionics to fling the entire meteor towards our destination. Witnessing him die like that, right in front of us, for us... It was horrible."
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And part of that, that a motherfucker would just give that all up... it stirs something unpleasant. He doesn't think he understands it, at least, not from the point of someone without the faith to hold and guide them. He's not sure if he could see it of Mituna. He's not sure if he wants to, though that is sin surely, the ticket taker was there for all, one way or other.
"The Helmsman's blood and flesh," He says, finally speaking. "STILL. The motherfucker ought at to know it ain't the same. HE'S A FUCKING FOOL, BUT HE'S NO GODDAMN SIGNLESS. He should know."
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"He doesn't get it. He doesn't know any of this. Any of it. Not about Sollux or Gamzee. Not about any of the other deaths. Not even about the demon. He's so blissfully, stupidly ignorant of how terrible things will get the actual second that he goes back." If they can even go back. For a brief second, Terezi wonders if she would be relieved if they couldn't--if that option was taken out of her hands, so she wouldn't feel obligated to return. But she squashes down the thought before she can complete it. She can't afford to think like that.
"It's like he's standing on the edge of a cliff and staring out at the horizon, not realizing that he's about to walk right off the edge."
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He caught the wince before. He knows why. He didn't like it either for the longest time. But it was what was wanted, more than the Psiioniic, and even as it suits so much more, that title is so intrinsically tied up with all that caused this problem in the first place, connected to something they both hated and didn't need. He'd been so grateful to get his name, for so many motherfucking reasons.
"I CAN'T TELL YOU IT. His name ain't mine what to give. YOU'LL HAVE TO ASK OF HIM FOR YOUR OWN MOTHERFUCKING SELF IF YOU AIN'T LIKE ALL FOR WHAT IS. Until then it's all what you get."
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Terezi shrugs a little. "Maybe my wings are broken, then," she answers dryly, trying for humor and falling a little short. "I haven't felt much like flying in a while, and besides... What kind of friend would I be if I left everyone else to fall without me?"
The Helmsman thing pulls her up short again, but for entirely different reasons. "I wouldn't ask you for his name, and I wouldn't expect you to give it. It's his to share, I get that." More shrugging. She leans on the table. "I can ask him myself. If he doesn't want to give me something else to call him, I'll make up my own name for him."
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"HE SUPPOSES THAT TO BE FAIR, THEN. Don't know what all he'd offer you up on that. OR YOU, HIM."
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"I don't know what I'd offer, either. That's the problem with titles, isn't it? It gets so complicated. It's a lot simpler when you don't have one to use. There's no leverage or meaning, but... You're not implicitly tied to some job or concept, either."
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