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.

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His eyes close and his fists clench. Carnival bound. May Messiahs have his soul. And may so then Shangri-la's great garden of mirth open before thee. He can't help but think of the Mituna, trapped like that as Helmsman. How many times over would he have died? How many times did he come so goddamn close? How much did he owe to the fishbitch for keeping him alive? Perhaps as much as he wanted to tear her apart.

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."

She winces a little at the name Helmsman. It bothers her on a deeper level, hearing that in conjunction with Sollux... She knows what sort of fate awaited him back on Alternia. She understands it, now. And frankly, the thought turns her stomach. The more she thinks on it, the more she doesn't like that title at all.

"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."

Edited 2013-10-19 08:15 (UTC)

"HE AIN'T REALISING FOR AN EDGE WALKED OFF... And you have. YOU THINK YOURSELF FALLING, PYROPE?" He stares at her. Expression odd and curiously blank. His head tilts. "He was sure dragons could fly."

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."

That question catches her off guard, granting him a blank sort of surprise. Falling? Her? ...Maybe. If she is, then they're all falling, and she's not really sure where or when they're going to land.

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."

"ONE WHAT DON'T FALL?" He suggests. "One what up and motherfucking survives?" This should be the obvious answer he thinks. He doesn't know why it's so hard to see for her. "PERHAPS SHE COULD CATCH A FUCKER IN CLAW, IF SHE TRIED, BUT THE GROUND COMES UP FAST; I wouldn't wait." He shrugs. She hadn't struck him a lot cause burn out at first. Maybe he was wrong.

"HE SUPPOSES THAT TO BE FAIR, THEN. Don't know what all he'd offer you up on that. OR YOU, HIM."

"We haven't hit the bottom yet." And they've been falling for over a year. Or maybe they already hit the bottom and just haven't realized it yet. Who knows. "I'm not going to be doing any catching while I'm here, at any rate." She smiles a little, pulling up the corner of one mouth. It's not much, but it's something.

"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."

Edited 2013-10-19 09:32 (UTC)

It doesn't really reassure him. But then, he wasn't really looking for reassurance. So much he could argue but in the end, if she planned for a nosedive then that's where she'd be.

He hums. "Perhaps. BUT HE WOULDN'T SAY AT THERE TO BE NO MEANING. It just ain't a meaning what all he has fancy for. IF A MOTHERFUCKER IS ALREADY BEING TIED AT TO A THING, IT AIN'T NO WRONG TO RECOGNIZE IT. But without you're already implicit unto something all anyways. UP AND MOTHERFUCKING STUCK TO IT YOU ARE, UNTIL SWEEPS MADE FOR THE SHAKING OF IT WITH TITLE ANEW. It can be it's own sort of simple to have such a thing be motherfucking safe, instead of getting display and risk on with who all ever which you speak unto." He shrugs. "HE WOULDN'T TAKE IT BACK, PERSONAL."

For the first bit, Terezi seems to be following along. She can sort of understand the logic behind it... But at the word 'safe', her brow furrows. She tilts her head a little and lifts her brow a little at that. "Risk? ...I think you've lost me. What sort of risk is there in giving someone your name? It's not like they have any control over you."

Edited 2013-10-19 10:06 (UTC)

He's silent for a moment, eyeing her. Not with suspicion, just observing. He's never had to explain this concept to anyone before. He always thought it was simply implicit.

"You want for respect, for a motherfucker to see you and hear for you, then they ask for a title. YOU GIVE A MOTHERFUCKING HATCH NAME. The first thing what all ever you were like to be. A GRUB, A WRIGGLER; WEAK, SISTER. But it ain't what you motherfucking are. NOT WHAT ALL YOU ASPIRE AT TO BE. You're taking shit what ain't full formed to offer to they and you will be ground under their motherfucking heals like that goddamn grub. BONES GROW. So too should your outer goddamn shell, should all it not? YOU GIVE A TITLE. They look at you; respect or scorn it ain't goddamn matter, but they up and look. YOU KEEP THE NAME SAFE, YOU CAN KNOW AT FOR WHO ALL IS SAFE. You know for who means it, when they call unto you. YOU ALL KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THEY MEAN." He explains it calmly, sober. He watches her to see whether or not she understands. He won't really be surprised if she doesn't. Mostly because it would fall further in line with him not understanding her. "It ain't about what all fuckers have control over you, but what all control you got. IT'S ABOUT CHOOSING ALL WHO YOU WANT AT TO BE. And giving the other to those what count, not the all." He shrugs.

She's silent at first, just listening. She's trying to understand. It's not that the use of titles is uncommon to her, but it's not something that she's put into use personally. She's never had a reason to keep anyone from knowing her name. She's never had a reason to not be proud of it.

"Do you think of me as weak for giving you my hatch name? Has it stopped you from looking at me?" she asks, more curiosity than anything else, but the expression she gives him is expectant--like she's waiting for his answer to tell her something more than just what he intends to say.

He starts, just a little, to hear her ask that. He grasps for failed words, what to say slipping from his tongue without even coming to life. His eyes dart from her and down. He feels like he's pointed out exactly where the ammo is, just assuming she wouldn't shoot. Fuck him.

It's a long moment before he says, struggling with getting the words out, "... NO. It ain't like that. YOU'RE NOT..." Not an adult? Not from a time this mattered? He frowns deeply. "He never up and expected for one given from she. WOULDN'T HAVE GIVEN QUESTION IF ALL IT WERE. But she didn't and he didn't all expect at for more." Which is... stupid. So fucking stupid. "MAYBE THINGS GOT TO CHANGING UP ON THAT, HE DON'T MOTHERFUCKING KNOW, BUT ON THE ALTERNIA WHAT ALL HE KNOWS, THAT'S HOW IT'S LIKE TO BE. He didn't expect her over it but he ain't Alternia as whole." It isn't getting better. This is not getting better. Finally he sighs. "SHE DOESN'T NEED ONE. If she doesn't all think at she needs one then she up and don't."

Fuck him over goddamn coals.

Once again, Terezi listens--quiet and contemplative. As much as she tries to be casual about her question, the answer she's looking for means more to her than she lets on. The Initiate isn't the only one who wants to be taken seriously.

What she does hear pulls a smile to her lips--one she quickly tries to fight back. The way he stumbles around his words for the sake of making her the exception... She's pleased, and honestly a little touched. But she's not sure that he would understand if she started grinning happily at him right now like she wants to. She lifts a hand instead, pressing it against her lips in what she hopes is a casual gesture.

"I've never heard anyone say that before. It's always something about being a wriggler, not knowing what I'm talking about..." The Helmsman does that a lot, for one. "Are you sure you don't want to take it back?"

"DON'T TEMPT HIM," He says, even though he doesn't mean it. "She could be about the altering of her mind one day, changing it and opinion all with it. IT AIN'T AS IF DECISION GETS AT TO BEING MADE SUDDEN. But if she don't need it now, she don't motherfucking need it now."

This is foolish and he feels like a motherfucking fool.

"BUT FOR WHAT MOTHERFUCKERS KNOW, INEVITABLE, THERE GETS LIKE TO BE A TIME WHEN THE TITLE MAKES ABOUT THE EASING OF THINGS, NOT THE COMPLICATION." Like this. "I told at to the Helmsman once all to gather fuckers for the forming of new title. THOUGHT IT WAS OFFERING FROM ME ALONE AND THIS BROTHER DECLINED ON COUNT OF NOT KNOWING HIM THEN. But if it is all to be a thing what still poses interest, perhaps he will take to suggestion again," He offers her, quick to add a stern emphasis, "PERHAPS."

"I am not tempting! Just offering. Jokingly. I know you're not the type to take things back." She gives him a wink, though she does mean it. "I doubt I'll change my mind, either. Besides, I already have a perfectly respectable title! I don't need an Alternian title, too."

Terezi does grin this time, even behind her hand. She can't help it. "I like the sound of that perhaps, though. Even if it is only a possibility."

He raises his brows. Then, "Right, you're a motherfucking Seer. DOUBT IN IT ALL YOU MAY, THINGS MAY CHANGE. Just up and saying at it may be a thing."

A grin behind a hand is still a grin. She doesn't sound like she's upset so there's really only so many other things it could be. He eyes her.

"YOU GOT AT A THING IN MIND? What all to be calling him already?" He asks. Because they were moirails, he and Mituna. He definitely ought to know what names are going to be thrown at the elder troll.

She's not really fooling him at all, is she? She drops her hand, flashing her grin a bit wider at him before carefully considering her options.

"Maybe..." But she's not sure what he would think of it, and even less sure what the Helmsman would think of it. But after a lengthy pause, she ventures quietly: "...Captor. Maybe. If nothing else."

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head just a little. No. No, she is not fooling him.

His head lifts up some when she utters the name. "CAPTOR? His second name." He thinks about that. "THE NAME WHAT ALL WE SHARE, ACROSS OUR MOTHERFUCKING GENERATIONS. You to the Neophyte, the Helmsman to your Sollux." Gamzee to him. He doesn't say it aloud though. He pauses, then says, "COULD WORK. Ain't exactly a title, but might all make like for fitting nevertheless."

Edited 2013-11-21 05:15 (UTC)

That fact that he doesn't immediately question where she learned that name has he relaxing her posture. It's nice to be able to talk about this stuff without the immediate suspicion that she used to get from him.

"It wouldn't be a terrible name. Brave, honorable, dorky. These are all traits bestowed upon the Captor name. Which is A-plus in my book."

His lips quirk, his fondness doing work without his say so. It's very clear he approves of this line of thought before he even speaks.

"She speaks the Truth. LET IT BE MOTHERFUCKING PREACHED. He is certainly all those things what are described," He says, with not nearly enough abashment. "SUPPOSE AT SUCH LIKENESSES ARE SHARED."

"Yeah," Terezi laughs a little. It's good, she thinks, that some things don't change. Captors are still Captors, and that's pretty much all she needs to know.

"Sollux would have liked him, I think. In his own dumb, moody way. Or at least, he would have sympathized with him." There's a pause as she thinks to herself, and then: "I wish there had been a chance for them to meet."

He ponders, for a moment, on what to say. Then, "Technically, it ain't all being impossibility."

He looks carefully away from her, down at his claws. "SISTER DON'T BELIEVE IN MIRACLES, HE UP AND KNOWS. That don't mean they don't all exist." He holds up a hand before she can even think to try and cutting him off. Because he knows well enough that she'll turn away with word on faith.

"I WON'T MAKE LIKE TO SAY HERE IS A MIRACLE. That ain't all what this motherfucker is meaning. BUT UNLESS ALL YOU PLANNED TREASON HIGH ENOUGH WHAT ALL TO GARNER HIS OLDER SELF'S MOTHERFUCKING ATTENTION, WE WOULDN'T HAVE MET. Nor would I all have ever realised no thing what all was being of the Helmsman." Which... hurts him, to think about. "EVEN HERE ALL ASIDE, YOU'VE COME BEFORE THINGS WHAT ALL HE CAN'T IMAGINE A SISTER WOULD'VE EXPECTED TO HAVE. Who all can say they ain't ever apt to find this chance through wills?" He shrugs. "JUST MOTHERFUCKING THOUGHT."

His hand stops her from protecting, exactly as he expects her to. She frowns, mouth tugged to one side in patient tolerance as he continues. What she hears is... not quite what she expects. It's not the same sort of church drivel that she's used to hearing from them. More surprisingly, he has a point.

"...If he ends up here, I guess. They never met back home, so unless they meet in the afterlife, I doubt that's going to happen." But who knows. Maybe Sollux will end up here. Maybe she'll get a chance to tell him how sorry she is that he ended up the way he did...

She chases that thought out of her mind with another. "What do you think he'd do if he met Sollux?" She pauses, then adds a little quieter: "What would you do? If you met your descendent?"

He doesn't bother to tell her to 'have faith'. Coming from him, he can't imagine she'd take it well. He hopes the look he gives her serves well enough to say that she shouldn't rule it out.

The other question earn a pause.

"What the helmsman would do?" He laughs lightly. "AIN'T SURE. Have snide ass motherfucking comment what all to put up on his younger I'd bet." Because that was his moirail. He's almost certain it's what he'd do. He imagines with a fond smirk. Only for it to fade, thinking on the next. He knows she hates the boy but...

"AS FOR HIS OWN... it's odd, Pyrope, you understand, to think all of having a descendent. ESPECIALLY NOW WHEN HE AIN'T NEVER THOUGHT ON SUCH A MOTHERFUCKING THING BEFORE. It's odd all to hear from others what all they feel on the troll, what all his name is, a shared likeness in physical but all denials either end of what all he's like. EVERY SINGLE FUCKER LIKE TO DENY THIS WAY AND FUCKING THAT, NO TRUE REVEAL ON WHAT ALL HE'S REALLY UP AND LIKE TO BE. To think that a motherfucker out there shares face and blood and who all knows what the fuck else... it has him wonder. GET WONDERING UP ON THAT NOISE, HE DOES. I couldn't tell you what all I'd do at with the chucklefuck aside perhaps...talk to him." He falters and gives her a wry look. "THOUGH I DON'T EXPECT SHE LIKES OF THAT ANSWER, REGARDING WHO ALL IT DOES."

"It's a fair answer." She doesn't know what else to say other than that. It is a fair answer, so she can't be mad about it. As much as she hates Gamzee, and as much as she'd like to put a sword through him if he ever set foot in this city; she knows that she can't expect Fraysong to condemn someone on her word alone. Even if there wasn't conflicting stories. "I would probably say the same in your position."

Though she doubts that any descendent of hers--if she ever got the chance to have any--would end up with the reputation that Gamzee has earned himself.

"If he does ever show up here, I would ask you to be careful, though. I don't need to lose anymore friends to him."

Her last comment gets her a look; surprise, confusion, that look when some more of the pieces have been slid in place. And of course, her continued assumption that they're friends. What is he to say to that? He focuses on the problem of it.

"Whatever it is the chucklefuck is or has done," He says, "He won't beat me, Pyrope. I DOUBT HE TO GET AT MATCHING WHAT ALL I GOT. I've culled in ways what would shock your fucking look stubs if they weren't blinded the fuck already. WHEN I SEE FOR HIM I WILL KNOW ALREADY UP ON STRENGTHS. And what holes might all get to being. HE WILL DO AS I GODDAMN SAY. Or I will make him."

He doesn't know how seriously she'll take it, or she'd believe him, but he speaks it all anyway. Truth is truth. He taps his claws along the arm of his chair. He's reminded himself, how much more restrained he is here where bacl on Alternia, things had been much different.

"SHOULD I ALL REMIND YOU SISTER, I'M THE GRAND MOTHERFUCKING HIGHBLOOD TO BE. Not him. WHAT COULD HE POSSIBLY FUCKING DO, TO BEAT ME? He whom is decended from my own goddamn motherfucking self, my flesh, bone, and blood. I'VE SEEN THE PATTERNS WHAT LAY BETWEEN OUR LOT. Knowing what I do, knowing how all I am, I could tear him the fuck apart in eyeblink, I would bet you, Sister. LET HER PAN NOT FRET UPON NEEDLESS WORRIES."

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