thearena | Deep in the meadow, under the willow...

Who| All those on the liberation mission and all those being made to fight against them.
What| The liberation of District 12.
Where| District 12.
When| This week.
Warnings/Notes| War, violence, death. Please warn for more in headers.

It doesn't take long to get to District 12, the closest district to the rebel district. It's one of the smallest districts, and you only know you reach it when rolling hills grow and grow until they become large, fertile green mountains. The environment looks green and lush, beautiful, really--That is, until you reach the part of the District where people actually live. The weather is chillier than the Capitol, though the wind bares the worst of it. Anyone planning on spending any time outside should definitely get a coat.

The town is smaller than any of the others, and more worn down. Everything seems to have a thin layer of cole settled over it, no matter how much cleaning is done. The center of the town isn't too shabby, and there are a few things that stand new and shining--A metal whipping post and stocks. The latter occasionally has an unfortunate person in it, though most people have learned to buckle down and accept the new rules.

In the merchant part of town, there's some signs of wildlife, knobby trees and green enough yards. The merchants used to ply their trades here, though for now, everything's locked down. As you get farther, it gets shabbier, poorer. Into the Seam, where the poorest of the poor live. Here, the houses are barely more than shacks. Trees grow wild, and what animal life exists is quick to run from any humans, no doubt having survived at least one attempt by the people of the Seam to capture them for the supper pot.

One thing in common with all the sections of the District is a feeling of hopelessness. The mood is dour, as heavy and permanent as the cole dust that seeps into everything. The only sign of anything even resembling any rebellion is a few chalk scratchings on the sides of abandoned buildings, a few zodiac symbols--Anyone who knows the trolls can recognize the symbols of Karkat, Terezi, Psiioniic, and even the Initiate. That, and the grand pictures of Sam Wilson and Joan Watson, and the bold words stating NOT ALONE and WE ALL DESERVE BETTER.

The war continues, and in the back of everyone's mind is a familiar phrase; may the odds be ever in your favor.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A moment ago, Albert was moving through the alleys of the District looking for stragglers, trying to get very civilian he can find out of the hot zone. It's a bit easier now that the firing has started, and without Black Tom putting bullets through civilian heads from the rooftops. He would feel a bit bad about putting his own shot into the self-style super villain if it hadn't meant so many lives, but a moment ago he was trying not to think much about it.

Now, however, now Albert's on the ground with a cursing Japanese twenty-something having bowled him over trying to escape from--

Gunfire. Well, he can't blame the boy.

Without a word Albert hauls himself to his feet and grabs the wizard's arm a second later. Then they're moving into a door and hunkering down under a blown-out window, Albert crouched with his back to the wall and his rifle at the ready. He doesn't admonish Haruto for running into him, doesn't even seem particularly perturbed at having to scramble to his feet.

"How many?" He mouths, barely any breath to give the words noise.

Nitou, glazed over though he is, and his Peacekeeper backup are still in pursuit of Haruto. With the other Wizard out of sight, Nitou has stopped shooting. Shooting slows down pursuit. A couple of the Peacekeepers are following his lead on that, but the occasional gunshot still rings out, and the soldiers can be heard drawing closer.

Haruto lets out a panicked shout when he plows right into Albert, for he hasn't immediately realized who he has plowed into. He's in full flight away from something that wants to kill him, and it's only when he's hauled up and in the temporary almost-security of a doorway that realization hits. And he just about shouts again, but catches on to Albert mouthing words and trying to be quiet.

"...two." And then he shakes his head. "Three. Don't... don't hurt him!" It's a harsh whisper, louder than he really should be using, but damn it he does not want Nitou shot dead, even if he's crazy and brainwashed.

Instead of a reprimand, Albert's hand flies to Haruto's mouth, not clamped over it but a clear sign to be quiet. Even so, they could have been heard with the urgent volume he'd used, but Albert has to hope, especially given that there's something more here than simple soft-heartedness. No one, not even the most pacifistic, sound like that over someone they don't know personally.

Who could still be trying to kill them, so it's not as if Albert's other hand strays from his rifle. He listens, barely breathing, hoping they just pass by and then Haruto can explain once they're out of danger.

Nitou leads his little group of soldiers right on past that doorway. He's still looking glazed over and misses the both of them, and the soldiers with him, for the moment, seem to be just as unobservant. If the two of them are quiet, Nitou will be gone without any more fighting.

Haruto gets the hint. It's a pretty heavy-handed one (ha ha) and he'd have to be far more rattled than he is now to have not caught on. He is completely still and silent, breathing as little and as lightly as he can, praying that they won't be spotted. It's not so much that he's afraid of getting shot, bad as that is. It's getting shot by his friend. Or having to shoot his friend. Or both.

Even after the soldiers have safely passed, he isn't daring to move or speak or even breathe deeply. Is it really safe...? Let's let Albert be the judge of that. Let's let someone else make the hard decisions right now.

It may feel like an eternity, but finally Albert lowers his hand from in front of Haruto's face and lowers his rifle to his lap, the barrel pointedly directed away from his companion.

"Now what was that all about?" His voice is still low, despite his being certain that the Capitol soldiers have moved on out of earshot. Just a precaution. But he does have to ask; Haruto obviously knew the other young man.

Even with the hand away, Haruto is not feeling particularly inclined to talk. The tension has not broken. The danger is totally not passed, even if the footsteps are long-gone. This is a war zone, isn't it?

"It's Nitou." His voice is just as low as Albert's, and much less steady. "The... the other wizard from my world. My friend. He's..." He catches himself trying to talk louder, claps a hand over his mouth until he's sure he can relay the information calmly, and then tries again. "...there's something wrong with him."

Even though Nitou is well out of sight, Albert still glances at the window sill above them as if he could catch him with his eyes. "I see."

A beat, as Albert thinks. He doesn't know Nitou, and therefore doesn't know if he could have been coerced into helping, or had his ideology changed either through convincing or force. He wants to assume that a friend of Haruto's would be a 'good guy,' insofar as that describes them, but he also knows that Haruto is the type to believe well of people even if they don't deserve it.

But if Haruto says there's something wrong, then that's the only fact he has to go on, and he'll believe him.

"The Capitol has a lot of ways to make someone do what they want," he offers quietly, knowing that whatever is going on, it's not going to be something Haruto wants to hear.

"I know that!" He hisses out that answer before he can even stop himself, and hates himself for having done it. It's childish and it's pointless. And it's turning his stomach, now that Albert has brought the idea up. His head is swimming with the thought of white rooms and cruel scientists and Nitou's screams and....

"...we need to get out of here. We need to pull back." He is not going to let himself get sucked into those sorts of thoughts out here. Not ever, not anywhere, not if he can help it. His hands press back against the wall that he's been leaning against and he tenses, ready to rise and go. Just tell him where, Albert. Take the hard decisions out of his hands for just a little while. Please.

The hiss earns Haruto a look from Albert, one with somehow an equal mix of annoyance and sympathy, but no comment is made. There's not much that can be said. He lets Haruto move on to the next thought.

"Alright. I'll get you back to camp." He has more to do here, but the time for quietly convincing people out of their homes has passed. Most have fled and the ones who haven't he doesn't have to be quiet about getting moving on the way.

He raises from sitting into a crouch, leaning awkwardly backwards to peer over the windowsill and see if anyone is around. There's no sign save for the ratta-tat of machine gun fire near enough to make him wary but far enough to know they're not the targets. He slips back fully into the room and looks to Haruto.

"Follow me closely and watch our si- rather, watch behind us." He has no idea if Haruto knows any common military parlance. He's not going to take the time to explain if not so best not to use it.

He deserved that look. And it's only that feeling that he deserved it that keeps Haruto from getting put out about it. He's still perched and ready to go, so tense that the slightest thing might well make him spring off the wall and out the door.

"...right." It doesn't at all occur to him that there was something there that he hadn't understood, because Albert had done the good job of bringing the language down to his level. Military parlance is definitely not his thing. He nods quickly, eyes on the way out, waiting for Albert's say so.

It's easier to focus on this than on the problem of Nitou.

Deep in the meadow, under the willow...

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