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First Dispatch. How Utterly Dreadful. Voice.
[Anyone who meets Effie in this post will meet her in full Capitol fashion and makeup. She landed in the shop, you see. A stiff turquoise-blue structured gown, fortunately, landed beside her.
And the wig -- thank the Senate! There were plenty of wigs and there was HER wig, tight and blond and curled and fabulous -- and the new violet wings sprouting from her shoulders were quite irregular but one never drew attention to one's irregularities. If anyone asked, they were Fashion. With any luck everyone who was anyone in the Capitol would be wearing similar ones, soon.
The makeup took a bit longer. Effie finally settled on green because green is one of her Power Colors and it IS almost spring, after all. She drew her lips in a pursed bow to reflect her dissatisfaction with everything.
It had only taken a quick readthrough of the Guide for Effie to grasp somewhat what was going on. It wasn't terribly shocking, but it was highly disappointing. She'd wanted to be in the Capitol for Katniss and Peeta, not transferred to a new post just at the height of a possible professional and personal triumph. Her charges were brilliant! Cinna had shown their fire to everyone. The sensation had been rampant and her promotion near-assured. Effie Trinket's star had been rising in the Capitol, the heart of Panem and civilization.
And then Someone had Bumped her. It was the only explanation for all of this business of waking up in a clothing store in what was obviously a cheap, outlying serfdom of Panem. A lesser woman would have called that Bumping Someone a dirty word, but Effie had dignity and would find other ways to trample that usurper into dust once she got back on her feet and back to the Capitol.]
Attention, Attention:
[Her usual rather chirpy voice is a bit tempered by the fact that she has only recently awakened in a clothing shop in a strange town.]
Would any available Peacekeepers in District Luceti please report to the Clothing Emporium? I repeat: any available Peacekeepers. The Diplomatic Escort for the Tributes requires a full compliment of Security. [Yes: she was still clinging to what she assumed was her now-stripped title and position.]
Thank you.
[[[[IMPORTANT NOTE: While Effie WILL be in full Capitol couture clothing and makeup for this post, some of my icons are simply those of her PB, Elizabeth Banks. I will probably try to MOSTLY use the icons from the Hunger Games movie but just assume she's all made up and dressed to the very weird nines even if you get a plain Elizabeth Banks icon! THANKS.]]]]]
And the wig -- thank the Senate! There were plenty of wigs and there was HER wig, tight and blond and curled and fabulous -- and the new violet wings sprouting from her shoulders were quite irregular but one never drew attention to one's irregularities. If anyone asked, they were Fashion. With any luck everyone who was anyone in the Capitol would be wearing similar ones, soon.
The makeup took a bit longer. Effie finally settled on green because green is one of her Power Colors and it IS almost spring, after all. She drew her lips in a pursed bow to reflect her dissatisfaction with everything.
It had only taken a quick readthrough of the Guide for Effie to grasp somewhat what was going on. It wasn't terribly shocking, but it was highly disappointing. She'd wanted to be in the Capitol for Katniss and Peeta, not transferred to a new post just at the height of a possible professional and personal triumph. Her charges were brilliant! Cinna had shown their fire to everyone. The sensation had been rampant and her promotion near-assured. Effie Trinket's star had been rising in the Capitol, the heart of Panem and civilization.
And then Someone had Bumped her. It was the only explanation for all of this business of waking up in a clothing store in what was obviously a cheap, outlying serfdom of Panem. A lesser woman would have called that Bumping Someone a dirty word, but Effie had dignity and would find other ways to trample that usurper into dust once she got back on her feet and back to the Capitol.]
Attention, Attention:
[Her usual rather chirpy voice is a bit tempered by the fact that she has only recently awakened in a clothing shop in a strange town.]
Would any available Peacekeepers in District Luceti please report to the Clothing Emporium? I repeat: any available Peacekeepers. The Diplomatic Escort for the Tributes requires a full compliment of Security. [Yes: she was still clinging to what she assumed was her now-stripped title and position.]
Thank you.
[[[[IMPORTANT NOTE: While Effie WILL be in full Capitol couture clothing and makeup for this post, some of my icons are simply those of her PB, Elizabeth Banks. I will probably try to MOSTLY use the icons from the Hunger Games movie but just assume she's all made up and dressed to the very weird nines even if you get a plain Elizabeth Banks icon! THANKS.]]]]]
[written]
[It is not a yes, it is not a no.]
Anything else you wish to say should probably be said in person.
[Translation: These journals can be read by others and thus could be dangerous.]
[written]
If you think it's worth talking about later, you can usually find me at the battledome in the mornings.
If I'm not there, just let me know over the journal where to meet you. Or leave a note at my apartment door. CH6, 6th floor, 26th room. Other than that, I doubt we have much to talk about.
Go get settled in; it still gets pretty cold at night right now. Goodnight.
[written]
Battledome. Really. Next you will be asking me to walk into the arena.
[Yes. This Derek fellow? Obviously a gladiator of some sort. Cheap entertainment. Cheap life.]
[written]
Ball's in your court, Effy, if and when you decide to pick it up.]
aww heck ACTION.
So it is after she is settled that she comes around the Battledome, prepared to size up just what kind of facility it is and what it has to offer.]
[Action] Should we be arranging for a medic? Or at least an Adult?
Of course, 'easy' for him means he's set up a daytime hunting scenario; small nest, the members scattered in random places around the desert and under the dilapidated farmhouse in some backwater New Mexico county. With two hours to find them all before the sun goes down.
He's in the process of digging one up when Effy arrives, staking it and beheading it as it all but explodes under the sunlight, sending flames shooting off in every direction. He watches it burn until it's nothing but ash, then inspects the pile to make sure the heart was gone as well.
That one done, he's gone into a crouch; he's working on the farmhouse now, and with the cover of shade, it's only too likely they're aware and waiting. So, like the hunter he is, he's stalking, too intent on the job to pay much attention to anyone who may be watching from above.]
PROBABLY
Well, there was one time in District 6; an old woman, ill from cancer, had been left in the street to die. The Peacekeepers had forced all potential helpers to pass her by.
She hadn't looked very nice at all.
But THESE creatures......and Effie marveled at the man's speed and agility in fighting them. More than anything else, though, she was impressed with how all of these horrors were projections created by the Dome.
She watched, her fingertips pressed against the observation window. Analyzing. Calculating.]
*Dials 911*...oh yeah--[Action] or something like that
This, too, was clear, but in the level above, a vampire, well protected by the eaves of the attic, was shadowing Derek's every move. Sprawled on the dusty wood, skittering across it like a spider as it followed in the hunter's wake below. Waiting for its chance.
The sudden creaking of the attic's wood boards was like a gunshot in the silent house. Derek immediately crouched, peering up at the ceiling, also waiting...
XD
It looks very much like this man is outmatched. That is, of course, how all of the most successfully entertaining battles are constructed.]
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It's just a question of how to get the little bastard down on his level.
Finally, he'll allow himself to relax, uncurl from the hunter's crouch he'd been in. He'll stretch his neck, rubbing it as he nods his head side to side. Yep, nothing here, his stance says. All clear. He turns to head for the stairs.
And that's when the vampire tears the floor out, dropping through the hole in one swift, nearly invisible from the speed, movement. A slap of clawed feet against the second story floor as it leaps for Derek's head--
And has its own head shorn from its shoulders as Derek turns in the same second, swinging his sword around in a precise arc.
The hunter doesn't hesitate, landing hard on the still flailing corpse to place a stake at it's heart, brutally driving it in with the weight of his own body. Once it's still for a moment, he'll haul body and head to a nearby window, tossing them out to burn in the sun.]
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Derek hears them, glancing beneath him as he sheathes the sword. He knows he is not in the best position here. One vampire, one goon? He can handle on their terms. Three, with one of them possibly a master? Time to get back to the safety of the sun.
It's when he's climbing out of the second story window and onto the porch roof when he catches sight of something in the sky. Something bright and not quite matching with the clouds and blue and...
He makes it out, slides down the singles, and lands solidly on both feet as the first of the remaining vampires attempts to burst through the front door. But the sun is still up, although starting it's evening arc, and the creature, all teeth and howls and burning flesh, retreats into the house once more.
Derek only gives it a cursory glance before he starts to brush dust off of himself, returning his gaze to the sky.
Where Effy was standing.]
End simulation. Save at point twelve, five thirty P.M.
[He's still staring at her when the holographic images fade away.]
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Effie pulls her hands away from the glass, leaving behind two slender prints which quickly evaporate. She simply nods down at him.]
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He will give her a polite nod--he's not connecting who this is, just yet.]
You needing the simulator? I'll clear it for you.
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[She folds her arms over that stiff, shoulder-padded uniform of a fuchsia blazer. While Liberace's closet was far too gay to be of interest to Cyndi's closet, his closet would at least have been Cyndi's Sassy Gay Friend and he would have told her NOT to wear this but she would have worn it anyway because she's so unusual.]
Though it would seem you weren't lying.
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He gives her a sharp look; one that shows he does recognize her now...and he's determining just how he wants to deal with this.
Finally, he just nods, turning his gaze to the console screen.]
So you did.
[He takes a few moments before he answers the second part.]
I save the lying for vampires. Generally speaking, living folks deserve the truth. If I can't tell them the truth, I won't say anything.
[He glances at her for a second.]
I apologize for the hostile greeting earlier. It reminded me too much of people from my own world that I'd rather not associate with. Life comes cheaply to them. And it's my job to try and save lives. It puts me at odds with that type of mindset.
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[He's keeping his voice quiet, steady.]
Do your people have anything like quantum physics? Mobius strips? Alternate dimension theories? That's pretty much the scale of what you're dealing with here.
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There aren't vampires in THIS world, are there?
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[He shakes his head.]
As far as I know, no vampire from my world has ever been brought here. Although someone infected with the virus at the time was brought in for a little while, a few years back.
I'm hoping that's as close as they ever get. Even with as powerful as some of the people here are, it wouldn't be something to mess with. It transmits too easily.
As for vampires from other worlds, you'd probably want to ask a lady named Buffy about that. She's one of the ones who's been here the longest. Works at Good Spirits.
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Buffy? I had a poodle named that when I was a girl! She must be delightful.
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Almost. He wasn't quite suicidal enough to want to see it happen.]
Smart as poodles can be, ma'am, Buffy definitely isn't one. She's a slayer, a job from her world that's similar to mine. Although in her case, I think it's more of an actual calling.
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And what exactly would we be training 'tributes' for?
[Careful, Effie...]
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[Or at least in the Capitol.]
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