trinkett | Fourth Dispatch: It's Not What You Think. Voice.

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Fourth Dispatch: It's Not What You Think. Voice.

Dear Fellow Residents of Luceti,

Wouldn't it be entertaining to put on some Games here in Luceti? Not that the Cultural Fair wasn't amusing, or any of the other activities going on here -- but true gladiatorial games. The pitting of one creature against another! Think of the thrill and drama and the release that goes along with that sort of entertainment! And here in Luceti we are ideally suited for a very exciting Games indeed.

Who would you sponsor or volunteer for this entertainment? Or would it all be...

[There is a pause here.]

Pokey-mans? I find human beings MUCH more interesting to watch, personally.

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Dear woman, I'm afraid I can't understand you around all the pain and death you consume with your delicate lips.

[This guy is so disgusting. Really.]

I'm afraid I don't like your tone, Mister Loki. In fact, I find it abhorrent.

Trafalgar Law, Miss Effie.

[What a DISTINGUISHED name! She smiles.]

It is a pleasure to meet someone who can reason. May I ask what your occupation is?

What the bloody hell was Disneyland? He wrinkled his nose -- unwilling to ask but willing to register his disapproval for such a vague and unknown term. There was a larger problem to tip-toe 'round: "Even so, perhaps you ought not to say it aloud..."

Because the woman, he suspected, did not need the barmaid threatening her life as well.

I don't care what you think.

But I suppose I ought to thank you for reminding some of the charming little mortals that they regularly produce creatures far more monstrous than I. They do like to believe they are better than they are.

Aa. Here? I'm head doctor of the Battle Dome clinic.

Back home I'm a doctor and a captain.

[Pirate captain, but since he didn't mention the pirate part (and he won't deny it; he just doesn't go shouting it off the rooftops), Effie is free to assume a military man of some sort.]

It is a magical place, Sharpe.

"Why not?! He's utterly respectable!"

Was this Sharpe just being too difficult for words again?

I'm not at ALL monstrous! [Now she might be getting audibly upset.] I'm one of the top Chaperones where I'm from!

[Or at least she's gunning to be one.]

Edited 2013-06-28 21:15 (UTC)

[This activates every single one of Effie's Maneater instincts.]

Oh! A doctor! [Her mother would be so PLEASED about that!] AND a captain? That's quite a career! I'm impressed.

"Respectable?" He repeated -- using the echo to once again buy himself time. As if he needed clarification on the term: one flung at him more often than he could recall. Respectable was exactly what Sharpe wasn't, according to many an observer. A red sash and a title made little difference off the field. And fame was a poor stand-in for noble blood.

Sharpe would not explain to Effie that her Jack -- or who he assumed to be her Jack -- was more publicly pledged to another woman. Like as not, she knew it. How could she not? Women so frightfully focused on their social standing always knew, even if they never said it aloud. Admitted it. Allowed it to come to nest in their hearts and minds.

So he took great pains to drag the conversation back on track: "Miss Trinket," he stiffened, "I merely want to see the members of this household kept safe. Out of trouble."

I've been watching the reactions to your modest little proposal. I think you would be less despised if you simply ate puppies.

Poor thing. No one understands you.

"Perhaps one day he'll invite me to stay with him," she answered primly. "And I'll be out of your flowing blondish-auburn locks."

She did like Sharpe's hair quite a bit.

"...A humble soldier can hope, ma'am."

[If there's one thing Effie hates, it's being called "poor thing."]

I can handle being despised.

[She can't stand it, actually.]

I'm not bothered.

"Hmph."

She began to stalk away.

"I left a lamb kebab in the refrigerator for you."

[His tone shifts to something strangely intimate as he whispers his one word answer:]

Liar.

.....No. You're wrong. You don't know me at all.

[His tone just as much as the one-word response has nudged her that much more off-kilter. Eerie.]

I've been in the Games.

[She's calmed down a little. Tiny bit. Deep breaths and gripping her knife tight have her more focused. So, she takes a deep breath and tries to sound more at ease.]

They have a purpose in Panem. They're for a purpose, more than entertainment. Here, they wouldn't mean that.

People would misunderstand.

[he's so glad he chose to make this a video call, so he can read her face. That soft, wicked tone continues.]

Oh, I know you well. You are bored, you wish to be entertained, you wish to be important. You desire some place in the world to be given to you because you fear you are barren ground that can create nothing. You're desperate for it, for that recognition that tells you that you are not as you fear.

[His voice drops lower, like the whisper of a lover.] You are an empty shell of clothes and paint with only a tiny scrap of soul to hold it all together, mewling for pity and life.

And no matter how you stuff yourself with light and sound and air, that will never change.

[She slams her journal shut so hard that they can probably hear it echoing through other enclosures.

What was more alarming -- the seduction in Loki's voice, or the fact that he was saying those things? Those things that were ABSOLUTELY NOT TRUE. She had plenty, here. She had a place, and a very good one at that. And the Malnosso were surely going to reward her efforts with an even better one. Her soul is just FINE, thankyouverymuch! She is solid as a rock. She'll always surface. And her pride won't be tarnished by those...sexy mutterings.

She'll probably spend the next five minutes just trying to get over the shivers.]

[Oh, she knows all about that purpose. That purpose is, to some extent, her purpose -- everyone's purpose in the bureaucracy and upper echelons of power. It's proof against insurgency, but even Effie has notions that that proof could still crumble.]

They already HAVE misunderstood. Greatly. Thankfully I'm adept at issuing speedy corrections and informational updates.

[And off in his house, Loki just leans back in his chair and laughs.]

It's different here. They don't understand sacrifice, and I can't agree with doing it here. It won't mean anything, you see.

[She's now trying to be diplomatic. As if she didn't just tell the other woman she'd kill her if she tried to make anything like the Games happen here.]

Like someone with the ability and skill to channel them and get rid of them.

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Fourth Dispatch: It's Not What You Think. Voice.

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[Video] Sorry about this but he hit it pretty much on the head!

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That's what he was going for. <3 thank you darlin!

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