thecapitol | open

Who | Skye + you!
What | Skye arrives and is upset with this entire situation, to absolutely no one's surprise.
Where | Training Center, various locations therein
When | Now
Warnings/Notes | Mild language warnings.

[ District 6 Suite ]

At first when Skye wakes up she thinks Hydra must have her, and it's only the nausea and disorientation sweeping over her that prevents her from trying to physically assault one of the peacekeepers when they come to lead her away.

(Portals are such a bitch. Thanks for nothing, stupid Nordic alien gods.)

It's once they get her to the Training Center and give her the vague welcome spiel that she realizes how wrong she was. This isn't Hydra. This is, if it's even possible, much worse.

She drags herself into the bathroom and stares at her reflection in the mirror, feeling numb and cold as she tries to process what she's been told. A battle to the death. Things were just starting to seem like they'd be able to make a go for the better, and now she's here, trapped in some foreign world for a celebrity deathmatch. Are you kidding me? Are you freaking kidding me? And then: there it is, anger, bubbling up hot and fast. She wrestles it down.

First things first: she needs more information, and she needs to see if she can find her team. Skye pushes her hair back and steps out of the bedroom to meet her suitemates.

[ The Commons ]

She's fiddled with her network device by now, and already figured out the vast breadth of digital information is locked to her--for now. The Tributes list and network had no records of her team, but that doesn't mean anything. They could be here off the record, under lock and key. She knows nothing about how these people operate.

On the other hand, she did see several other familiar names and faces, and her stomach flipped nervously when she saw them. Really? They're pitting a Level 1 agent up against the Avengers? Talk about unfair play.

So in the meantime, she's stuck to good, old-fashioned info hunting. Which is to say, she'd changed into a brightly-colored dress upstairs and is now approaching strangers downstairs with a stunning, confident smile, one hand held out to shake. "Hi! I don't think we've met yet. I'm Skye."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Staying unnoticed and out of the way isn't how Roland had used to move through the world, before. But with one thing and another it's become a habit, and before he's quite realized it Roland's become used to moving around the corners of a crowd, to not quite meeting anyone's eyes and making his way past all the social life of the city unremarked, if not unnoticed. So when it becomes clear she's addressing him, rather than someone else nearby, Roland is surprised and almost instantly suspicious.

Suspicious, first, because he assumes she's a reporter - but no, while far more colorful and striking than his own, her outfit isn't nearly ridiculous enough for that. Her smile's confident, but not fawning, so not a Capitol citizen. The realization that she must be a tribute drives a good portion of the suspicion from his face, and gives him a reason to grip her hand with his own - his right, missing its first two fingers as it is, doesn't always get a good reaction from people but there's really no getting around that even if he'd cared to.

"We haven't. Did you need something?"

Skye had grabbed the dress out of the closet on impulse, because she liked the color, because she wanted to make a statement. But now, seeing the looks it's earning her, she wonders if she shouldn't have considered something less loud. Girly is supposed to be good, dammit. Girly is supposed to make people want to help you.

When he reaches to take her hand, she notices the wound but doesn't flinch away from it. Still, it's one of the oddest handshakes she's ever had, with the feeling of two stubs pressing against the back of her hand.

"A tour would be nice, if you have the time. If not--" She shrugs. "--Just trying to get to know people, that's all."

Fashion is a very different language in this city than it is in most other places. Roland has responded to that by making his wardrobe as bland as possible - at least partly because of the looks it puts on his stylist's face - but it's also changed the way he reads fashion. What elsewhere might have read as girlish doesn't tend to show up well against the general background of extravagance and frippery, and doesn't make nearly as much impact on Roland as the idea that she's a fellow prisoner. "I've very little but time. There's not too much to show, though, 'less you like shopping. And drinking, I guess. Depending on how long you've been here, you've already seen this building."

It's weird, that they would abduct them to have them fight each other, but also give them access to this much extravagance. The psychology of it, the logic of it, doesn't add up. It's probably meant to show how generous these people are, as well as how dangerous. Maybe they mean it to instill awe and fear in equal measure. But instead all she thinks when she looks around at this ridiculous display of showmanship is, Try harder, guys.

Then again, she's not the target audience.

"There's always something to show. Cities are like a microcosm of the world. You just need to know what you're looking for."

"So long as you do know what you're looking for, I don't mind showing it." There are people Roland's known who'd relish the idea of being a tour guide - throw their arms out wide, start it off with some grand, ridiculous statement. Roland doesn't think on that for long. He knows his limits.

"Most of it's in the style of this place. The same extravagance. The same, ah-" He glances at her dress, then at the crowd around them. "-fashion." Roland turns toward the door, gesturing for her to go in front of him. "But I've wandered the streets enough times to know where they go. I can at least keep you from getting lost."

"I did notice the, um." She gestures at her head and casts an exaggerated glance at a woman a few feet away whose hair is styled to resemble a grizzly bear. "Different strokes for different folks, I guess.

What she's looking for is the flaw in the system, the exploit to worm her way through. She has low expectations of finding it today, but everything's about breadcrumbs: look for the signs and they'll lead you there.

Maybe she doesn't know what that will look like yet, but she won't find out unless she gets out there. And she'll look a hell of a lot less suspicious as a flirty, wide-eyed newcomer than she would sneaking around in flannel and jeggings on her own. "Could you? I'd appreciate it so much."

"Hm." Roland follows the direction of her glance, corners of his lips twitching briefly upward, then begins to slide his way back around the edges of the crowd and to the doors. "Like I said, lots of shopping. Whatever you're looking for, doubt you'll find it there. Food. President's mansion, in front of us." He holds a door open for her, waving his other hand in front of them. "Probably not wise to try and show you much of that. Couple places that show off some of the things these people can do with their machines, though not much that can't be figured out from the arenas. Anywhere you'd like to start?"

((I don't see it linked from the mod account anymore so I don't know how canon it is, but I'm using this as a guide about what's in the city.))

Edited 2014-08-04 21:50 (UTC)

She passes by him, pulling her hair over her shoulder and combing her hands through it as she does so. The sun hits her eyes, making her blink and her eyes water until her vision can adjust to the light.

The view of the city from the ground level outdoors is just as breathtaking as it had looked from her window. And under all that beauty, she's willing to bet there's a whole lot of ugliness.

"I don't suppose the way we got here is open for public tours?" she half-jokes, because there's no way that it is.

[ ahhhh that's really cool ty ty ]

Roland follows her out, waiting an arm's length away and watching her look the place over. "Hm. No chance." He looks out over the view himself, but he's more focused on deciding whether to share what he knows about that - rather, what he's heard - than on seeing it. Would it be cruel, to share both parts of what he knows? To share the implications of it? Well, this whole place is cruel. Maybe best to get this particular cruelty out of the way now, so she can better face the others.

No one seemed to care when the information was shared with Roland so there's probably no danger of looking suspicious. Won't hurt, though, to start a slow, casual stroll up the avenue, so that's what he does. "A while back, some of us were granted visitors from our worlds. One tribute, Maximus, had a visitor from after his time. After he'd been taken. No one noticed his absence, because he'd never been absent. He'd never left." Best to see what she makes of that before sharing the rest. Disturbing enough on its own, probably.

Edited (typo) 2014-08-08 13:21 (UTC)

open

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject