A bed of grass, a soft green pillow

[etcircenses]

Who| All those on the liberation mission and all those being made to fight against them.
What| The liberation of District 1.
Where| District 1.
When| This week.
Warnings/Notes| War, violence, death. Please warn for more in headers.

The nearest to the Capitol in both relationship and location, District One is a sight to behold. Unlike the other districts where things are obviously poorer and dirtier, District One looks and feels like a smaller (and slightly cheaper) version of the Capitol. The architecture from the City Hall to the corner stores is Roman based and with the whole city built on the edge of a lake, it seems to glimmer when the sun hits it right. With half the goods to be found in One based on precious jewels and metals, the shops hold their own kind of glimmer in the windows.

This is the prime vacationing spot for wealthy Capitolites and the place looks the part.

Unlike in some areas, this may be the only place outside the Capitol where someone might suspect the war isn’t happening. The Capitol doesn’t want it’s citizens thinking there’s something to be concerned about and it’s clear in the way there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong at all, the only noticeable difference is the Peacekeepers. Previously laid back and generally unconcerned with their routes, are now more attentive, keeping watch for anything or anyone undesired.

Those soldiers from the Capitol will notice they receive plenty of smiles and hellos and general niceties one might expect from a district sitting in the palm of the Capitol. However, the real note that shows that perhaps not everything is as it seems on the surface is in the way the citizens look at the rebels. Although disguised, the people of District One know a Capitol tool when they see one and they know when they’re looking at someone who doesn’t fit that image. And yet, nothing comes of it. There’s a flash, a look of knowing in their faces, but they smile and give hellos to the rebels as well, as though they’re aware of what might be going on and simply refuse to lift a finger to change it.

And why should they? Luxury does not always buy compliance. Still, it would be wise to tread lightly no matter which side you’re on. Things aren't always as the seem. And it would seem there are many marks of both sides here. Goodness and Peace can be seen, sometimes with a question mark beside it. There are those who wear red wrist cuffs for Haruto and some with jade green dots under their eyes. There are bigger, bolder images of Quintus and Beck seen around. On one wall, a painting of Emily and Beck's hands together can be seen. A home-made banner on one house proclaims this is our home.

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

Comments

The Battlefield

[etcircenses]

The battlefield is no battlefield. This city is the best place tactically for the rebels to gain a foothold. If the rebellion can gain District One, they’ll be in a better position when it comes time to spring an assault on the Capitol. Conversely, with this district being the main producer of all of the Capitol’s fancy goods and travel location, no harm can come to it if the fighting is to be kept secret as long as possible. In short: neither side can afford to have fights in the street, this mission must be carried out or stopped as quietly as possible.

If someone is injured, their best bet is to simply be pulled out quietly and tended to in the shadows so they can be returned to the hovercrafts parked outside the city.

[Closed to Derek and Roland]

[69problems]

That's what Signless is doing: going after the injured. Now that he's been with the Rebellion for a while and they've managed to eradicate almost all of his brainwashing, it's safe for him to be back in the field. Unlike the Capitol they don't expect him to fight, but he insisted on being out here anyway because the idea of sitting around twiddling his thumbs and waiting for new on the battle was abhorrent to him. Out here can do some good; sneaking around being quiet and quick is his specialty after all.

It almost feels like being in an arena again, where the fights are quiet and quick and the only all-out brawl is the opening bloodbath. He keeps his head down, scouting from corner to corner and looking for anyone who looks like they need a quick bandaging and help staggering back to the shelter of D13's healers.

The problem with sneaking around corners is that sometimes other people happen to be doing the same thing in the other direction.

[sociopathicwolf]

Derek's been to District One before, a number of times, and he's never gotten the reception he gets now. People smile at him much more dressed as a Capitol soldier with a gun at his hip than they ever did as a weaponless Victor, and he'd like to think that he's above any kind of reaction to that, but he isn't.

Fortunately, he's much too focused on the battle at hand to spend too much time thinking about that. It does feel like being in the arena again, but that's almost a comfort, given just how much of Derek's life he's spent training for it. It's almost too easy, moving through the buildings and back alleys on the hunt, taking out rebels quick and quiet to prevent them from completing their mission.

When he hears someone coming around the corner up a head, he shifts, sliding into a defensive position as the other person comes into view.

Another troll, but Derek's fought three of them now, and even though his third encounter didn't go all that well for him, he's learned from it. Now he pulls a knife as he lunges, immediately going on the offense.

[69problems]

Well. This isn't someone who needs his help. Signless's first instinct is to flee, but he knows logically that if he runs and Derek pursues he'll wind up in a corner or stumble straight into more Capitol troops. He's got to at least slow him down first. He may be a pacifist but non-lethal incapacitation is something he's allowed himself since coming to Panem.

All this he decides in the split second it takes for Derek to notice him and lunge. He takes a few stumbly steps backward and lifts the club he was given. It's a short, thick affair but if he can just get a good hit or two in --

The knife slashes across his raised arm and he hisses, unconsciously baring his fangs. Shit.

[sociopathicwolf]

As far as Derek's concerned, he can't let this rebel go. One more rebel down means one less rebel to help complete whatever their mission is, and in District One, where the rebels are at a disadvantage - one less of them could mean the difference in them winning or failing.

Everything in his movements is purposeful, fully intent on making the kill.

When the troll hisses at him, baring his fangs, Derek snarls back. His own slightly pointed canines are nothing on the troll's, but the growl he makes is closer to animal than human. Derek slashes at the troll's raised arm again, hoping to injure it enough that it makes wielding that weapon he's got more difficult.

[Closed to Sam and Terezi]

[silberfuchs]

The first thing Albert does after being sent out into the city with a disguise is lean against a building and have a smoke.

It's his first real cigarette in a very long time - he'd waited to light up after pocketing the pack he'd found on the item recovery mission more because he didn't want to be found out and have them confiscated for smoking like a chimney than out of any plan to make them last. The basil and thyme only lasted so long and didn't help much at all when what his body craved was nicotine. And he knew he'd done that to himself, too. On Mocawa he'd been made anew and hadn't craved anything on an addiction level, but stress still does its thing and he finds that smoking calms his nerves far better than giving into the urge to lay in bed all day and stare at the ceiling until until kingdom come.

He'd been fighting that a lot lately too, considering. Haruto's really the only one left he has to fight for - even if he cares about Barnes and Cecil, they're still not enough to dictate his behavior, and Initiate is still in a coma - but Haruto... he's so like Joe that there's something in Albert that can't disappoint him in that way, not by giving up. That and he'd promised Jet, and Jet has to be still alive.

Albert keeps telling himself this, as he inhales more smoke than air. Jet and Sam have to be alive.

And now that he's out here, maybe he can find them.

And Terezi too, which is the real hope for the day. The Rebellion has their mission to win over District 1, a hopeless task though if anyone actually asked Albert he wouldn't say that, but he has his own mission, with a prototype device safely in his pocket.

He's going to free Terezi and bring her home, safe from the fighting and whatever else the Capitol has done to her. He's going to fight for his family, and for once he's going to keep them. Starting with her.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

This didn't used to be the kind of war that Sam was used to, fighting a battle in the middle of a city right under people's noses while they had no idea what was going on. But after working with Steve, after over a year of being on Panem, it feels more natural fighting like this.

He's almost surprised that they're letting him in it at all - but then, the rigged wingpack and the threats against Jet are more than enough to keep him from trying to make a run for it. He's on injured Peacekeeper duty, moving through the streets and circling above the buildings of District One, keeping an eye out for any downed Capitol soldiers so he can pull them out to get them medical attention - and before they can be seen by too many citizens of the district, he suspects.

But it also means he can keep an eye out for his friends. He can't go back with them any more than Terezi could when he found her during the last battle, but he can at least reassure them that he's alive, that he's still on their side and he's gonna fight to get back to them.

His goggles make it easy as ever for him to scan the ground and pinpoint exactly what he's looking for, and eventually he spots Albert leaning against one of the buildings.

Sam shoots past him, dropping down to land a few blocks over where he ducks into a store to buy something - is given something, and he's not sure if that's because he still has some lingering fans who are glad to see him back in the Capitol or because the shop worker is secretly pro-rebellion, but that doesn't matter. It's just to keep up appearances, as though he's only taking advantage of the luxury that the rebellion couldn't offer.

Then he doubles back on foot until he finds him again. What he really wants to do is yank Albert into a hug, but he'll wait for a moment, just in case Albert's a little wary of him now that the black and red of his flight suit has been replaced by a white uniform with a giant crimson Capitol symbol.

"Hey," he greets, holding his hands out, palms up. "It's me."

[silberfuchs]

"Sam..."

There's no smile, but there's something in his tone like a sigh of relief that doesn't come close to excising all the tension. He's glad to see his brother, especially in one piece like this, but he has already decided he has to use the device in his pocket for Terezi. Sam's a military man and like Albert he can handle a little more fighting. The girl, though... it's already been too long.

But on a quick once-over, Sam does't seem to have a collar.

Maybe...? It's probably too much to hope.

"Do they have you rigged?"

No 'good to see you.' No 'are you alright.' He can't afford it right now. Instead, it's business. The mission. Or else he'll be asking for far too much more than he can handle right at present.

Closed to Sam

[hollowvictor]

Dressed to blend in among high society in the District, Bucky moves with the practiced ease of a man who doesn't exist to those around him. His clothing is stylish and flattering enough to blend in, but dark and simple enough to remain unnoticed. It was the only good thing to have come from his time as the Capitol's 'Rural Reaper,' the ability to blend in and stand out all at once.

There was a tension in the air he could taste, the fighting would break out soon, it was a matter of who shot first. Bucky didn't really care, what he cared about was finding the other side for who might be on it.

He would have paid just about anything to ensure Sam never ended up in the Capitol's hands, but it was too late now and the thing he clung to was that the Capitol wasn't likely to kill a fan favorite and Capitol darling like Sam Wilson. No, they were much more likely to use him for their means. Which meant Bucky could have hope that he'd steal Sam back to him with time and effort.

He just had to locate his missing boyfriend first.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

For most of the battle, Sam's been patrolling the ground and the skies, tending to any injured Peacekeepers - and any injured rebels who are willing to look past his Capitol uniform. Honestly, Sam has a feeling he's out here for show more than anything else, considering the symbol of the Capitol is splashed in red across his chest, big enough that anyone from the ground can see it.

It bothers him more now than it ever did back when he was playing it up for the audience in the arenas, but there's nothing he can do about it. Even with the wings, he's even more a Capitol prisoner now than he was back then. All he can do is try to work it to his advantage - and even if he can't escape, he can at least hope to find the people he cares about, to try to let them know he's okay.

Well. Still alive.

When he sees Bucky, there's a moment where he forgets to be cautious. There's a pull drawing him downwards and he follows it without thinking, wings dipping briefly before he catches himself. Then he keeps going, flying past until enough distance has gone between them that Sam feels like he can comfortably land and make his way on foot, where it's harder to track where he might be going.

But when he finds Bucky again, he isn't cautious. He doesn't say a damn thing, just grabs Bucky by the front of his Capitol-style clothes and hauls him in to kiss him.

[hollowvictor]

Bucky sees him round a corner and his heart stops dead in his chest while his legs move of their own accord. There's a line between them, tying them together and refusing to allow space between them, the gap needed to be closed as soon as possible. He doesn't run for fear of drawing unwanted attention, but his grip is unbreakable as he grabs fist-fulls of Sam's Capitol-branded clothing.

Perhaps this was a bad idea, if he couldn't make it back with Sam, how could he possibly let his high-flyer go now that he had his hands and lips on him? But there isn't much thought given to the notion when Sam's lips are on Bucky's and it's all he can do to keep from drawing the breath out of Sam's lungs with each desperate kiss.

He manages to pull back a moment later as his training kicks in and reminds his relief-addled brain of exactly where they are. "Come here." It's whispered against Sam's lips and Bucky's grip doesn't loosen as he pulls them both a little farther into the alley they were near. Out of direct sight, they'd be less likely to be noticed as Bucky continued to press hard kiss after hard kiss.

"Thank god. Sam-" His words were barely a whisper sent to Sam, but they were strained with the mixture of relief and worry and fear.

Closed to Ellis

[glowygreendeath]

Ermac, armed once more with his powers, can be seen patrolling the District like so many of the other soldiers. Unlike the other soldiers, however, he's chosen to float just a few inches off the ground rather than walk. It's a small display of his power, but it's still eerie and actually keeps many of the District natives at bay. He had work to do, and he didn't need some civilian getting in his way.

Ironically, the welcome return of the din of his many souls is more of a distraction than any living body would be. He'd gone so long with only his own voice in his head that filtering out relevant information from thousands is a somewhat conscious effort now. The effort is enough to keep him from noticing a familiar face until he's almost bumped into it.

[shiftingurbulls]

It's not like Ellis hasn't had a chance to test his powers, given to him in strange ways that he doesn't remember consenting but welcomed nonetheless. He's been acting his revenge on those who took his entire family and loved ones. He has a hit list and President Snow is on the top.

He's under cover in the District of Luxury, a fashionably hooded jacket kept him from being watched: he knows he's on the Capitol's wanted list for a while now. When he spots Ermac, floating about, he's torn. He should kill any and all enemy combatants...but this is his friend dammit! And he should minimize the death tolls.

So he instead gives chase, whistling towards the officers and runs off to the nearest park, away from civilians.

[glowygreendeath]

Ermac notices him and hesitates as a hundred different voices within him all speak up at once, each one offering advice about his next move. Had it always been like this? He remembered everything being so much more...harmonious. Unified. Ten thousand souls acting as one, not like a mob. To an outsider, it looks like he's hesitating.

When he does choose a course of action, however, his characteristic speed and determination return in full force. More than anything Panem has seen from him thus far, in fact. Despite months of power deprivation, he is still the Master of Souls, and now he demonstrates that mastery by essentially flying after Ellis. As soon as he feels he has both adequate cover from civilian eyes and a clear line of sight on the man, Ermac fires off a blast of green soul energy intended to temporarily bind Ellis.

[Closed to Clint]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Sam’s under the Capitol’s thumb again - only this time, there’s little point in pretending that he’s neutral in all of this, not with the propaganda videos he helped film and the fact that he’d been captured after getting shot down using something he’d stolen back in a raid on the Capitol.

At least they let him keep his wings, although given the fact that they’ve been rigged to explode if he tries to escape, they’re now basically what’s keeping him in the Capitol. He’s pretty sure that’s supposed to be some kind of message to him, but he’s doing his best not to think about what. Sam doesn’t want to give too much credit to the Capitol, and anyway, if he does his best to ignore it, then their message isn’t working all that well.

He’s already got enough of a message on his chest, where the Capitol symbol bleeds red against his white uniform, clearly visible as he flies.

It burns him up that he’s stuck on the wrong side of this battle - even if he’s refusing to actually do any fighting - but there’s some measure of relief that at least he can have his partner’s back again, and keep Clint from getting his dumb ass killed.

Like right fucking now, and when Sam’s goggles pinpoint Clint getting himself into trouble, Sam doesn’t hesitate before swooping down to join him. Unlike when helping out the rebels, Sam doesn’t have to be subtle here.

[cognitived]

Clint's not entirely sure how much the Capitol believes him. The Capitolites, sure. They're easy, in general, shallow and thoughtless and flighty. The fact that he hasn't left them, fights and kills and dies, means the populace still loves him. They mourned with him, they were betrayed right alongside him. It doesn't matter that Clint had been faking it that entire time -- they didn't know.

But Snow doesn't buy it, he's sure. If he pays attention to one little archer, that is. And certainly he's not alone, despite all that he's tried.

Doesn't matter anyway. Clint knows the fight in his bones, and it doesn't belong to either the Capitol or the Rebellion. He fights because he has to, for the Districtors and what's left of his friends, for his Partner soaring above head and the family he's so painfully sure he's never seeing again. A little extra blood on his hands is a price he'll pay, easily. He's just a little bit unused to having someone at his back, after months without. Clint usually can see more than anyone, but he's just human.

The battle is chaos, thundering through his bones, tinnying in the wrecked hollows of his ears. Clint can fight with the best of them, but even a master assassin can be taken by surprise.

He doesn't hear the warning, faint to his ears, but he hears the explosion, feels the heat across his skin, spinning automatically in surprise. A fucking rookie move, but whatever. It's just in time to catch the shattering of metal through the air. Clint gets tossed, back hitting the dirt hard, dazed and breathless. For a moment, the ringing in his ears outweighs everything, and then he tries to breath, and near blacks out from the agony. One hand slips against the ground, the other gropes for his bow, and then he's near heaving with the ache, catching sight of the metal spiraling out of his abdomen. There's a smaller piece punched through his leg, and instinct has him reaching with trembling fingers, brushing against the heated metal, dazed, unthinkingly tuning out the battle around him.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Clint might be tuning out the battle around him, but Sam sure as hell isn't. His goggles helpfully pick up all of the rebel soldiers converging on Clint in the back alley, guns out - and Sam knows they won't hesitate to use lethal force. Whatever part of him that feels guilty for going up against the people he'd only recently fought with is covered up by fear for his partner.

He just watched Jet get shot down along with him, despite his best efforts to stop it, there's no fucking way he's going to let the soldiers any where near his partner. Even if he has to take them out to do it.

Sam uses his wings as an extension of himself - he always has, five years without them didn't change that. He picked it right back up when he became an Avenger and again when he managed to steal his wing pack back from the Capitol, and he twirls as he lands, wings flashing when he deposits himself between them and Clint, instinctively bringing them up as a shield.

He can use the wings without his arms, but they're stronger and more precise if he puts that strength behind them. Which means he's pretty much weaponless at the moment, using the metal of his wings to block the bullets the soldiers are shooting at them, unless he wants to power his way through to smack them with the wings.

But he doesn't think it'll come to that. Sam'd spotted Clint going for his bow, and he trusts Clint to still be able to use it, despite the injuries he'd glimpsed. He doesn't shout don't pull the shrapnel out you dumbass like he probably would have if they were alone, doesn't tell Clint to shoot while Sam covers them - in battle, he trusts Clint's instincts enough to assume he'll just do it.

[Closed to Sam]

[furgood]

Meulin had found this District oddly restful after District Seven. Seven had been cold and icy, full of restrictions and at least close call she told no one about. District One was the Capitol lite. It felt safe, felt calm. If not for the Peacekeepers, she would have been utterly at ease. For all she knows better, knows they're here to do their job, the twinge of fear still rattles deep down.

So she stays out of their way and keeps her eyes peeled. It's sheer coincidence that has her noticing Sam in the sky really. She hadn't been looking up until the glimmer of light off his wings caught her gaze. He'd been returned to the Capitol recently enough, not long enough to trust him but certainly long enough to think he might be doing good. And so he is, saving Clint, and that had really been one of her favorite ships for him.

Carefully, she keeps her eyes on him until he lands once more and trots up to him curiously. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe that whole rebellion thing was a mistake. She does so dearly want to believe the best in her favorite tributes.

"Nice job with Clint."

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Sam rolls his shoulders back as he snaps his wings in, letting out a deep breath and trying not to think about just how close of a call that'd been with Clint and how much he'd rather be back with him instead of still out here on the battlefield - which gets easier when he hears someone coming up to him.

He remembers her. The girl who'd done the romance column in Celebrus, Terezi's friend. She was on one of the hacker posts, talking to Terezi - talking about Kurloz, he remembers that because he couldn't resist chime in and teasing Terezi, getting her feathers all ruffled. At some point, Terezi'd trusted her enough to vouch for her there - but that was before the war started.

Still, rebellious tendencies or not, he can't help but be vicariously fond of her. She might not know it and it might not have been her intention, but she'd done him a pretty big favor, reporting on his so-called love life enough that it distracted people from his own rebellious actions.

"He's my partner," he says simply, flashing her a smile. "Nothing's gonna touch him while I'm around." It's easier than he'd like, slipping back into being charming for the public, but he follows it up with a shrug. "What are you doing out here?"

[furgood]

It's hard to say if Meulin had been aware of it but the girl who had wrote so many of those things would have been glad to help, glad to cover. It had even been fun to tease him with continued references when she knew he was dead to the world. The girl before him now isn't quite the same but still fond. He'd always been good for some new ship or some new twist to an old one.

"Of course not. I'd expect nothing less from the birds," she says with a beaming smile, eyes watching his words intently. Practice has made her better at this, but it still requires some obvious concentration.

"I'm here for the Capitol. Still writing, only with some video on the side. Well--they like the video, I like the writing, so we both win."

Silver And Gold

[etcircenses]

There is business to be had in the transportation depot of District One. Rebels involved in this leg of the mission will be dressed plainly (but warmly) and in dark colors, their objective to move unseen to the depot and take it over. With the Peacekeepers removed, train signals scrambled, and the transportation depot in Rebel hands, no Capitolites can come in and no resources can go out which means two things: District One will only be accessible to the Rebellion and its sympathizers and all of that precious gold, copper and other useful metals can be used to make new technology and weapons.

Capitol Soldiers cannot let this happen. While it wouldn’t be the biggest resource loss for the Capitol, it would be the biggest morale loss for those that need to be kept brainwashed and happy.

All seems quiet when the two groups infiltrate the depot, but the minute one side spots the other, all hell will break loose. This is the battlefield. Three stories of wide open space filled with tourist shops, businesses, train tracks, intricately carved stone and glass. There’s plenty to break and plenty of space for an all-out brawl. In fact, perhaps too much space; other than hiding in the carved out lanes for the trains to pull in and the open shop fronts that all face in towards those tracks, there isn’t a whole lot of room to hide. The other two floors are simply railing-lined floors with cushy seating areas and observation decks for travellers to wait in comfort. The depot is hardly the place for a shoot out, but wars rarely pick their battlefields.

Song of the People

[etcircenses]

Did you ever want to go to the opera? Did you miss those Capitol social events? Well congratulations, it’s your lucky day. A lucky and cold day, as a matter of fact, as the rebels sent into the gala will be dressed to the nines in warm and elegant clothing, each sporting a fancifully done masquerade mask to hide their identities along with all of the guests there to actually attend the event. Some of them are from One, some are even from other districts (those few with permits to travel) but most are from the main city itself. However, the rebels aren’t here for them, the socializing, or the singing on stage.

It’s a little known fact that the head of the District One Peacekeepers, the mayor, and the man in charge of Capitol news and propaganda are all at this event tonight. Luckily, the rebels are in the know. The objective is easier said than done: sneak through the event, play your part during the pre-show gathering and then, during the climax of the opera, break into each person’s private box, kill the first two and capture the third. All at the same exact time. This mission must be carried out precisely and quietly and it must succeed.

If you’re a Capitol soldier, you’re also very aware of the persons in attendance and with tensions high, protection has been ordered for these three. It’s your job to stop the rebels by any means necessary, to lose all three would not only make the Capitol look weak but would make the loss of the district imminent. That cannot happen. Do not fail.

(frozen comment) Results

[etcircenses]

(frozen comment) Silver And Gold

[etcircenses]

The rebels took their chance, but the Capitol forces were too much and too well armed. Although there might be a chance for those wise enough to realize an end when they see one to turn and escape, those who stay to the bitter end will find themselves mowed down or captured despite valiant efforts.

The district stays in Capitol hands.

(frozen comment) Song of the People

[etcircenses]

You did your duty well! The three individuals were saved and evacuated safely without a scratch on them. As for those rebels, if they didn’t run in time, they’ve been left bleeding on the expensive and opulent carpet and will soon face the Capitol’s wrath if not the reaper. Anyone left standing better make a mad dash for the hovercraft before they’re caught or executed.