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thearena2016-02-22 01:51 pm
etcircenses) wrote in thearena2016-02-22 01:51 pm
Where a dead man called out for his love to flee.
Who| All those on the liberation mission and all those being made to fight against them.
What| The liberation of District 10.
Where| District 10.
When| This week.
Warnings/Notes| War, violence, death. Please warn for more in headers.
Fields of grass are all that can be seen in any direction for at least an hour while the hovercraft come in. These fields are broken only by the occasional color change (marking different kinds of grass and even the occasional wheat field) and a farmstead every now and again. It’s easy to see that the animals here far outnumber the people as it’s more likely to see a grazing horse or cow or even something stranger like llamas and elephant before one would ever notice a human being. The temperature is mild in this season, not too cool in the shade and not too hot under the sun, although as the hovercraft come in and the people of the main city come into view, quite a few are dressed in long pants and sleeves, their clothing worn and dirty from hours of hard labor. In wide open fields like these there are only a few groves of trees to park a hovercraft out of sight behind. It’s one of these far off groves the craft lands. It would be a shame to have to hoof it all the way into the city.
If you’re from the Capitol, this doesn’t apply, as they can land wherever is most convenient. For those in the rebel forces... well just be glad someone knew what to expect and has procured more than a few horses to carry you into town.
District Ten has always been overlooked by the Capitol. A large district by landmass alone, its people are perceived to be just as domestic as the livestock they tend to, so despite whatever political climate it may hold, rebellion is not seen as a concern here. Consequently, those on the rebellion’s side will find they’re the first ones on the scene.
They’re greeted by friendly, if not guarded, faces. These are people who stick to their own community, their own families, but they’re not an unfriendly group. They know who you are and why you’re here. They’ve said for ages that the Capitol needed to go down, that something ought to be done about Snow and his Games, but no one ever paid them any mind. Probably because all that talk may be there, but it’s only ever been that. No one expects an uprising from the countryfolk.
Being so laid back, there's really not much in the way of graffiti. No one particularly has anything to say that has been said and shrugged off. One might hear laughs and mutters about the compliance video or a morose mention of Bison and the call to fight. There are also others pointing out that this is just the way things work.
Even the peacekeeping forces here are limited and laid back, not nearly as strict as might be found in other districts, but they are still there, so it’s best to keep your heads down as you move through the town.
As for how the Capitol forces are greeted upon their arrival, well, that all depends on how successful those rebels are.
The war continues, and in the back of everyone's mind is a familiar phrase; may the odds be ever in your favor.
What| The liberation of District 10.
Where| District 10.
When| This week.
Warnings/Notes| War, violence, death. Please warn for more in headers.
Fields of grass are all that can be seen in any direction for at least an hour while the hovercraft come in. These fields are broken only by the occasional color change (marking different kinds of grass and even the occasional wheat field) and a farmstead every now and again. It’s easy to see that the animals here far outnumber the people as it’s more likely to see a grazing horse or cow or even something stranger like llamas and elephant before one would ever notice a human being. The temperature is mild in this season, not too cool in the shade and not too hot under the sun, although as the hovercraft come in and the people of the main city come into view, quite a few are dressed in long pants and sleeves, their clothing worn and dirty from hours of hard labor. In wide open fields like these there are only a few groves of trees to park a hovercraft out of sight behind. It’s one of these far off groves the craft lands. It would be a shame to have to hoof it all the way into the city.
If you’re from the Capitol, this doesn’t apply, as they can land wherever is most convenient. For those in the rebel forces... well just be glad someone knew what to expect and has procured more than a few horses to carry you into town.
District Ten has always been overlooked by the Capitol. A large district by landmass alone, its people are perceived to be just as domestic as the livestock they tend to, so despite whatever political climate it may hold, rebellion is not seen as a concern here. Consequently, those on the rebellion’s side will find they’re the first ones on the scene.
They’re greeted by friendly, if not guarded, faces. These are people who stick to their own community, their own families, but they’re not an unfriendly group. They know who you are and why you’re here. They’ve said for ages that the Capitol needed to go down, that something ought to be done about Snow and his Games, but no one ever paid them any mind. Probably because all that talk may be there, but it’s only ever been that. No one expects an uprising from the countryfolk.
Being so laid back, there's really not much in the way of graffiti. No one particularly has anything to say that has been said and shrugged off. One might hear laughs and mutters about the compliance video or a morose mention of Bison and the call to fight. There are also others pointing out that this is just the way things work.
Even the peacekeeping forces here are limited and laid back, not nearly as strict as might be found in other districts, but they are still there, so it’s best to keep your heads down as you move through the town.
As for how the Capitol forces are greeted upon their arrival, well, that all depends on how successful those rebels are.
The war continues, and in the back of everyone's mind is a familiar phrase; may the odds be ever in your favor.
hi
But instead of engaging, James tossed Firo a small bag, full of fruits. "Better than you by far," he commented, being a little petty about this.
hi :D
He was wary of bending down to pick up the bag--it could leave his back open, even if only for an instant--so he kicked it right back in James's direction. A little bruising wouldn't hurt any of the food.
"What do you want?"
Was he here to gloat, maybe? Firo hadn't forgotten the words they exchanged during the Arena.
no subject
He's offering Firo the chance to dissent from the Capitol, to make like a bandit. Something told Sunderland that it wasn't happening because why would a man with a fragile ego and a temper that rivaled a volcano accept an offer of assistance.
"I'm not killing you if that's what you're worried about."
no subject
As for helping him escape? Ridiculous. Firo couldn't think of how James could turn that around on him, but he was sure he would. It had to be a trap at worst--a sick joke at best. He shook his head. "And don't even pretend you'd wanna help me--I don't like you, you don't like me, so cut the bullshit. What do you really want? A chance to get up on your high horse?"
Now there was something else to add to his resentment. Firo knew he wasn't a good guy, but being forced on the Capitol side was even worse. His crimes back home were easy for him to excuse because they were for his Family--people he actually liked. But now he was being bribed to work for really bad people. People whose activities he couldn't condone and quietly fought against in whatever acts of rebellion he could manage. James, on the other hand, was with the people who were probably the closest to 'good' in this place. Firo was envious of him, though he wouldn't admit it to himself.
no subject
He could tell that as brash as Firo was, he really didn't like the Capitol and their traitorous ways. Prone to violence? Yes, absolutely, but for James to say that he was any better would be a massive hypocritical statement.
"The Rebellions would use your recklessness much better." One drawback: they'd be on the same team.
no subject
"Maybe I don't wanna be used by anyone." There was a grain of truth in it--though, really, he just wanted to be used by his Family. Neither group here cut it.
He laughed, bitter. "Why're you coming after me? There's gotta be somebody else in the Capitol right now that you like a hell of a lot better than me."
Their past disputes--even if they'd been largely instigated by Firo--made it hard for him to accept any goodwill. It could always be a plot to stab him in the back, even if James had said otherwise.
no subject
"I can only promise I can vouch for you but you have to take a chance and join this side of the fence," he laid out the ultimatum as best he could. "Or help the captured rebels out. Your choice."
no subject
"I don't have to explain to you what I'm fightin' for. Maybe you should focus on your 'loved one' or whoever the hell they are--you mind your own damn business and I'll mind mine. I don't need your help or anybody's--I definitely don't need your opinions."
no subject
"The man protests too much," Sunderland knew he was poking the metaphorical badger but hey, he had to make it seem like Firo was trying to be the good Capitol soldier. "Is there at least anything you want to say to anyone on my side of the war?"
He sidesteps saying the right side, he's done enough damage.
no subject
But at the offer, all the frustration and viciousness fall away, revealing pure surprise. …Well, maybe there’s a touch of fear in Firo’s wide eyes before he roughly shakes his head. He tries to keep his face blank as he thinks.
This is an amazing opportunity. Passing letters is dangerous because of the physical evidence—and even before that, it’s hard to find people who can do it. But this—this could help a lot. Firo feels one of the first flickers of hope he’s felt in a while. He could finally tell Phil that everything’s going okay, and maybe ask for information on how the man is doing.
It all comes down to one thing: Can Firo trust the man before him?
In this brief moment, he finds himself wanting to, just so he can reach out to a friend somehow. But…
…No. No, it’s too dangerous.
His face hardens once again. “I’m not an idiot. It’d be a waste of my time and yours—you think I’d actually believe you’d get it to my friend?”
no subject
"Because if it wasn't for me and the other soldiers from Thirteen, key information wouldn't have gotten to you people. Look, you don't trust me, I get it." And yes, he's extremely exasperated, "If you ever decide to actually follow what's right, I..."
And this takes a lot out of Sunderland to admit, "I will make sure I let them know you're the real deal. Do what you want."
no subject
He glances off to the side, trying to look as casual as he isn't. "Don't take it personal. You have to know how this stuff works--I give you any names to give messages too, somebody's could suspect 'em of workin' with the Capitol."
Is that all he's worried about, though? He's passed letters before, and they carried the same risk... The contradiction is largely lost on him, as is the fact that his hypocrisy is largely due to how deeply this man has offended his pride.
"As for your word, I don't need anybody's help. I'll prove it myself."
no subject
An explosion was Sunderland's cue to get the hell out of the hiding spot, the forces were drawing closer and the last thing he wanted was Firo to get caught cooperating with the rebels. He might be a pint-sized horse's ass but the war wasn't stopping for them and their petty fights.
"Just stay safe would you?" those were James' parting words.
[ooc: wrap here?]
"pint-sized horse's ass" James tells it like it is
That was, until the explosion rattled the area. Firo growled, disappointed to realize what James also knew. Their time was up; they had to join the rest of the battle.
He blinked at the words--they seemed a strange sort of kindness that Firo never would've offered if he were in James's situation. Another insult? No matter how hard he tried, Firo couldn't see it that way. But what else could it be? He shook his head as he left. "Yeah, whatever!"
[ooc: Yep, seems like a good end!]