Are you, are you, coming to the tree?

[etcircenses]

Who| All those on the liberation mission and all those being made to fight against them.
What| The liberation of District 9.
Where| District 9
When| This week.
Warnings/Notes| War, violence, death. Please warn for more in headers.

By now, even the most remote and isolated Districts are well aware of the chaos ravaging Panem. District Nine, golden with wheat and blinding with its expansive blue horizon, is quiet, and yet nothing about it feels safe; the stillness is less like a serene oasis than like tall grass that cannot help but contain lions prowling. An air raid siren was going off an hour ago at the sight of hovercrafts, driving everyone inside. No one is outside working the fields or traveling the dirt roads to the hub of the District, which sits in the center like a spider in its web or the axel of a wheel. Displaced Capitolite and Districter both are hunkered down within the corrugated-metal buildings.

The air is hot, and once outside the hovercrafts one finds that what was previously mistaken for silence is in fact the monotonous hum and whine of insects, too continuous and amorphous to really qualify as actual sound but certainly not the absence of it. The sun glares down from a cloudless sky. The earth was tilled until an hour ago, and many of the fields are only partially plowed. Some still have farm equipment left out. Mills and water towers sit awkwardly at the edge of the fields like sentinels or oversized dominos.

The crops stretch out to the horizon, ranging from waist-height to taller than the average full-grown man, depending on the breed. The sheer variety is astonishing, the quality even moreso; ears of corn are as large as toddlers and the wheat is a flawless golden color, thanks to Capitol technology and genetic modification. There are no pests, as most of the plants have a natural pesticide that is fatal upon ingestion and only removable with sprays available to importers to the Capitol, to prevent theft by the hungry employees.

There are crop circles, many in the Capitol’s logo and a few stamped with the insignias of local Capitol-run businesses. It does not reflect the sentiments of the natives but rather an attempt by those clinging to their echelons to enforce a mindset in vain. The propaganda has largely been repelled from the souls of the people here like bugs to a windshield. Only the rarest bit of graffiti may be spotted saying "All is not lost" and "you are weak" both of which have clear attempts to be scrubbed away.

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

Comments

[atouchofka]

Alain frowned. Something was wrong here, seriously wrong. The mission. Had someone given Altair the message already, or was there something else at play?

"I wouldn't know about your mission," he said at last. "I'm here to give you one, if you'll take it. You're well-placed in the Capitol, better than any of us. Are you true to our cause still?"

lmao Alain might burst his bubble about who he's really working with and i am so ok with that

[theflyingone]

Of course he wouldn't know, Altaïr suspected as much, but he had hoped Alain would have been someone to confide in. Their goals had aligned considerably well when they had looked at each other in the last arena with their other sights. It seemed different rebel factions did not speak to each other, or perhaps they only considered offworlders pawns that need not know the full story. Like Al Mualim talking in circles to evade answering questions, this frustrated Altaïr. He was tempted to have it all out in the open and tell Alain about his recent mission, secrecy be damned, but first things first:

"The rebels I have been working with will not have told you of my tasks, but they say that is for the best.... I am true to the cause that drives you to wield your gun, and me my blade. What is it you have to say?"

oh good i'm so glad to have the go-ahead :D

[atouchofka]

"The rebels?" Alain stopped moving for a moment, genuinely surprised. At the same time, that makes some sense of Altair's assumption he would know his mission. "Where have you been, Altair, to have been with Rebels? We were told you were taken by the Capitol."

i thought i was going to have to handwave it with Random Rebel A tbh!

[theflyingone]

He stopped with him, but continued to scan the smoke. He did not appreciate being questioned when the man was supposed to be giving him important mission information. Could they not catch up with each other afterward? Altaïr had always been straightforward and on task. In the past, he had even berated the less experienced Assassins simply for not being as quick as him.

He only called upon stores of patience because he was trying to be a better man. Also, Alain was one of the few trusted allies he had considered bringing into the Brotherhood. He had wondered how attached Alain was to his ring finger, or if the hidden blade could be modified not to require its sacrifice...

"I know of no such thing. Yes, I was attacked in battle, but I awoke in rebel custody, a hidden place." He supposed he should tell Alain at least a little bit. He seemed discreet, and anyway, all the assigned tasks were already done. "They gave me missions in secret. Such is the nature of my trade. My most recent task was to protect one of our allies, a businessman in that estate at the central crossroads."

[atouchofka]

Alain was quiet a long moment, scanning Altair's face closely. "And why would they do that," he asks aloud, although he's talking to himself as much as to Altair, "and yet tell none of us they had such an ally? Why risk our slaying him?"

A suspicion is growing in his mind, still nascent, still uncertain. He has seen men hypnotised before, and there is no denying that the Capitol has that power.

"And why, if you were not in the Capitol, was I told to send you on a mission there?"

[theflyingone]

"I was in the Capitol, or at least close to it. That is why I had to stay hidden and wear only civilian clothing, even in battle. An ally in enemy territory...."

He didn't want to suspect himself just yet, because turning his sharp eye on his own situation would surely unearth something. After so long a prisoner, he wanted so badly to know he was making a difference in this stupid war. So he turned his suspicion on Alain instead, and fell back on his defense of pelting people with questions.

"Who told you? Who have you been with? Can you say for certain you've had contact with District Thirteen itself?" And, a little more curiously, "Have you seen it?" These were questions Alain no doubt would like to ask him, and Altaïr was secretly, painfully aware of that.

[atouchofka]

"I've seen it," Alain agreed, his voice sharp and clipped. "I've been there, just as you have. I've been with the other Tributes, the ones not taken by the Capitol." He raises a finger, holds still a moment in the silence, then whips around, firing from the hip into the smoke. The gun crashes, and in the muzzle-flare, it's just about possible to see the figure he's shot down. White on white; a Peacekeeper.

He turns back to Altair and keeps moving. That sound and that light will be enough for a skilled marksman to get a bead on them, and he wouldn't be afraid of that, except he can't be sure Roland isn't here. "You know the truth," he says, his voice still even and calm. "You know it better than I do. I'm not here to quiz you on loyalty, I'm here to pass on a message."

[theflyingone]

"Do it quietly, then," he hissed. That Peacekeeper could have been avoided (at least by him, one skilled at climbing buildings). Now the gun's sound would surely attract more enemies. If their position wasn't compromised before, it was now. He very nearly ran in his hurry to get away from the body.

He did realize the truth, deep down. When he felt it safe to slow his pace again, the thoughts and questions intruded. It couldn't be. It was impossible. No way had he been fooled by such a simple ruse. He prided himself on his intuition. It would be as if the Assassins themselves betrayed him. His world tilted a little, but Altaïr never allowed himself the luxury of reeling for long. He needed answers, and he had a few ideas where to find them.

Abruptly he stopped and focused on Alain with piercing eyes. His other sight revealed the same information as it had before in the arena. Alain was speaking as an ally for certain.

[atouchofka]

Alain kept pace, although he did have to run to keep up; Altair's legs were longer than his. When Altair stopped, it took him a split second to stop as well, turning to look at the Assassin. He gave Altair a couple of seconds, to use whatever second sight it was he'd mentioned, then said briskly, "In the Capitol, there is a building. We do not know what is inside, but we know it to be important. It is unmarked, but protected, hidden in plain sight. Find others true to our cause, get inside, and report back when you can. That is the message I was to give."

[theflyingone]

Even while confronting the possibility that he'd been the center of a Capitol lie, his mind tried to work out a plan of action. From the scouting he'd done since his first days in Panem, he could think of a few places that matched that description. As for finding allies in Capitol custody, that would prove difficult as well. It was almost tempting to simply follow Alain back to rebel camp, but Altaïr had a new, legitimate rebel mission to go undercover for. He had to return to the Capitol.

"Who do I report back to? I... do not know who to trust now, nor do I know when I will be able to return to Thirteen."

[atouchofka]

"Pass on the message to anyone you feel you can trust. There are others who have been told the same - I passed this message onto sai Prochainezo as well as you, at the very least. The hope is that between you all, some will be stationed in future battles, and can seek out Rebels the way I sought you out." He ran one hand back through his hair, taking a deep breath. "It is a fragile sort of hope. But sometimes that is all we have. You have your Touch, do you not? Your other sight, I mean."

[theflyingone]

So Thirteen was fumbling for a hold in the dark, unable to establish a clear chain of information. This unpredictability was a double-edged sword. It could prevent the Capitol from getting their hands on someone in the chain, but it also meant information might be lost, especially if it had to be passed on in person. By the next battle, it might be too late. Altaïr wished he'd been able or allowed to operate a messenger bird system, but then again, with the Capitol's mechanical eyes, those might be too easy to track. Worth looking into, but not a foolproof method.

"It comes and it goes, as with the arenas. Looking at that pattern, I will only have it for the rest of this battle. There is no way to know when it will return."

[atouchofka]

Alain nodded. That wasn't good news, but nor was it wholly unexpected. It took him a moment to answer. "Others will go on the same mission. Them, at least, you can trust. There is to be a... a party, a gathering, not long hence, which the Capitol's hostages will be attending. Find your way out then, and you will find others to trust, I am certain."

[theflyingone]

"The first part will be simple for one with my skills. The second, I am not so sure. Thank you, Alain."

He thought of the task ahead of him, the hastily-formed plan and his new target. It was fighting outright against the Capitol now. Their ruse was over. He just hoped he didn't get dragged down along with its end.

"I hope to see you sooner than later."

[atouchofka]

Alain nodded, and reached out to clasp the other man's arm briefly. "I hope the same," he agreed, quietly. "Good luck, friend."