thecapitol | (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

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."