Mingle Log!

[notscrapmetal]

When; July 5th through July 7th!
Rating; G+
Characters; Open to ALL, 4th Wallers and Citizens!
Summary; The celebrations continue, and the Anonymous regime has summoned guests that Citizens might (not) prove very thrilled to see! As opposed to other Fourth Wall events, all visiting characters will have been invited to the City, or they must arrive here of their own will.

Mingle! Explore~!

Log;

There's so much to do and so much to see in this City of cities. From tromping through Xanadu, long walks along the shore, shopping in the Square, hunting in the forest, meeting a contact in the Underground, or getting as many answers as possible at the Welcoming Center how can anyone decide on just one. In three days time so much can be done!

Shops and restaurants are having specials. Happy hour has become happy days in some bars. This is quite the occasion! When the City decides to celebrate, it becomes contagious. Why not smile and strike up a conversation with a stranger? After all, a stranger is a friend you haven't met yet.

Comments

[tributum]

[A stranger is a threat you haven't assessed yet. Katniss hasn't seen streets this full and this free since before the Quarter Quell and, even though she took up the strange invitation of her own free will, she doesn't trust what it's offering. The streets are as battered and broken as some of the districts Coin has had her visit, and she finds herself hanging back around the rubble as something more familiar than the celebrations underway.]

[killerstyle]

[Lucky for Katniss, then, that Finnick Odair is stranger to...well, no one in Panem, at least.

He looks happy. When was the last time any of them had looked happy--not just relieved-happy, or excited-happy, or even wildly-in-love-happy, but the sort of happiness that comes with having a massive weight lifted from your shoulders?

(There's a joke to be made there, really--that the weight lifted was approximately equal to his exceedingly big head, and circumstances had seen fit to separate that from his shoulders for him. Finnick always did have a wicked streak of black humor, didn't he.)

Famous green eyes alight on the Girl On Fire.]

You took the invitation too, huh?

[tributum]

I didn't believe what it said.

[So of course she took it. How else to test the real meaning of something promising escape? It's always another cage, in the end. This one doesn't seem to want to hold her to a schedule, or clip a tracking device around one leg, but there'll be a catch, somewhere.

Now, Finnick Odair is a trap of an entirely different kind, one she's long over being wary of. She might be one of the only people he knows who can look at his stupidly pretty face with nothing behind her eyes but relief. He's certainly among the very few she'd allow to see that she was unsettled.

Seeing him smile that way could almost put her at ease. She has no idea she should be collecting memories of him for the long time she'll be left with nothing but. And right now that's for the best.]

Is this real? I feel like I should be waiting to wake up with a new set of needles in my arm... someone offered me cake.

[As though it wasn't even rationed.]

[killerstyle]

It's real enough. Did you take the cake? There's a bakery around here that makes the best cake I've ever tasted. Mostly because Peeta was the one who used to make it.

[How long ago that was, and how the memories of this place come flooding back at the mention: Peeta dragging him out of bed in the mornings, forcing him to earn an honest day's wage no matter how he protested otherwise. The fawning girls, the exasperated baker. The complete lack of imminent peril looming over his head. The absence of anyone to threaten them.

To think, how different these other worlds are from Panem.]

I know there's a million questions you probably want answered right now, but this will go a lot more smoothly if you answer one for me, first. When was the last time you saw me before this, Katniss?

[Times always play differently here. People remember different things. It's important to know what she remembers, first.]

[tributum]

[He says that name as if it comes casually. As if it makes any sense. Peeta doesn't make anything anymore. He's with the Capitol. Peeta probably barely eats anymore. He looks like he's lost fifteen pounds. Peeta's only alive because it tortures her to have to question whether he'd be better off dead.

If he's alive.

No, she didn't take the cake.]

What sort of question is that? [She'd wonder if he was crazy if she didn't already know that he is, a little.] Last night. I saw you last night. It would be difficult enough to avoid each other, wouldn't it, if we were trying?

[The length of rope she pulls out of her jacket has clumsy knots worked into it. They're not as neat as his netmaker's work, but she's new at the art. And she's impatient.]

Peeta isn't here.

[It's not a question, because they both know the answer.]

[killerstyle]

[He takes it in quickly, all the small nuances and subtle tells that come together to make the greater picture. She trusts him enough to talk without that exasperated, dismissive tone he remembers--she remembers the Quell, at least. (Once, she hadn't, and he and Cinna had been loath to tell her.) The rope. Oh, yes, he remembers that. He remembers how it'd felt when he'd been carrying his own piece around everywhere, too.

(Annie, Annie, Annie. She's safe. She's still got Johanna. It'll be all right now.)

And Peeta--now there's the giveaway. You can always tell a lot about Katniss Everdeen by the way she reacts when you say Peeta's name. He spent a long time learning to gauge that, too.]

Not yet. Who knows how that might change.

[He does, for one.]

Everything changes, Katniss.

[tributum]

[Everything changes. From the Seam to the Victor's Village, from the arena to the floor of a bunker in a district that wasn't supposed to exist. From mistrust to the only person she can say Peeta's name in front of and be certain of something other than Prim's pity or Gale's resentment, or Coin's mercenary calculations. Finnick understands. Haymitch and Johanna too, for all their methods of numbing themselves to it.

It's an exclusive club she'd like to revoke membership of for all involved. Everything changes? She shakes her head.]

Everything changes. But the waiting feels interminable, every time. [Still, he's caught her with the possibilities.] You think... whoever this was, could get an invitation into the Capitol? How would we know? I've been here two hours. That's enough time for you to have picked up at least a couple of fawning admirers we could ask.

[killerstyle]

A couple? I should take offense to that.

[He says, in the sort of tone that suggests the remark ought properly to be followed with a "Do you even know me at all?" attached. But she doesn't know he's been here before; she doesn't remember that she was, too. And that's fine. Finnick's well accustomed to the experience of knowing more than everyone else.

He's well used to the practice of keeping secrets, too.]

I can tell you this--there's not a lot the Gamemakers here can't do. Could they have gotten one into the Capitol? Absolutely. And anybody in the Capitol would have to be an idiot not to take it when they offered. If they offered.

[Peeta, Johanna. Annie. If they went to Annie during that time, asked her to come here while the Capitol had her...he hopes she'd take the offer. Maybe she would. Hopefully she would. He'd protected her from them for years, but she was a Victor once, too. Maybe she'd know. He can only hope.]

If you're looking for him, I can think of a few places to try.

[tributum]

[The Gamemakers here.]

Then it is another kind of game. [She takes the news steadfastly, ignoring that part of her that wants to scream and sob just at the word (there is always some part of her screaming but if she can keep distracted then she doesn't have to let it pull her apart). His smile is the hook she hangs her sanity on. He wouldn't, couldn't look so free if this were a game of the kind they're used to. She knows the two Finnicks now, this one isn't his gameface.] I've never been in an arena without him. So we'll try everywhere. If they're here, they'll need us.

[Her Peeta. His Annie. She says it with the confidence of someone all too aware that it's the reverse that's true.

Already she's standing differently, less the girl trying to blend in with the destruction. In a game, fear comes second to strategy.]

Maybe you can prove I underestimated you and charm some more food out of someone along the way.

[pimphandoftheking]

[Merrymaking comes easily when there is plenty to drink, plenty to take cares away of home. Tyrion whistles to himself. Already he is close to needing another round before finding another bed, of course the more unsavory locations have the more interesting people. He nearly does not see the young girl.]

[killerstyle]

I can do you one better. Want to go hit up the best bakery in town?

[He dusts a bit of nonexistent dirt off his sleeve, then rakes his hand through his hair like he's getting ready to put on a show. He doesn't need to, not here, but it'll make Katniss feel better to see these small signs of it--to read that he knows she's out of her element here, and that he's not, and that they may not be District partners but they've been partners in other things before (anguish, and horror, and death), and they'll get through this arena together, too.

He remembers all too well; that was always his goal, back then. Keep Katniss and Peeta alive. Cinna was the one fixated on keeping them happy and content and oblivious. Finnick was the one keeping them safe and secure and breathing.

That's always his job, isn't it. It's what he's good at--protecting them.]

And try to act like you're happy to be hanging out with me, will you? Put on a smile and you might even convince some of our audience that you're as fun to be around as I am.

[saturniapavonia]

[What are laws anyway? Roman has a beer in one and a cigarette in his lips. He'd be more happy if he had company though. This is some kind of mindfuck.]

[makeahowl]

[Christina does not know what to make of this.

One day she was there, the next day she was in her hospital room safe. But then she was in the city and she's quite sure she's not supposed to be.

Still, experience is the meat of the writer's meal so she's trying not to be too scared or look too out of place.

She's not all white yet, she's not all gone yet. So there's still fear. Sitting there just as he comes around the corner.]

[saturniapavonia]

[Wouldn't it be great if Peter were here? Even Lethe though preggo and bars don't mix. At least that is what she keeps saying. They have virgin stuff. He stops and leans against a lamp post. The better to look around and see what there is to see.

Wait a second. He looks right at the odd, odd girl. The backdrop temporarily misplaces her name in his mind but he knows that face somehow.]

[tributum]

[She nearly doesn't see him, at least not while she's preoccupied with scanning the crowd for faces that are familiar (and reside on a more familiar level). The whistling alerts her to sidestep before she treads on anyones toes. In the event she just knocks an arm.]

Oh, I'm sorry. [She says it, but her voice is a little too tight to have meant anything but watch where you're going.]

[tributum]

What do you suppose their idea of fun is? Maybe I am. [She's never going to be the good-time girl, it would require too many shifts in the tectonic plates that make her up. But she does remember fun. A long time ago. At least, she remembers being satisfied with her achievements, and that's almost the same thing.

(No, there's fun, too. Her mind offers flashes of two arrows notched at once and Gale's smile bright in the wood's dappled light. Catching Peeta's blue eyes as he so earnestly explains that if you put enough pressure on coal, it turns to pearls. Finnick Odair whisking off his hospital gown to reveal a body a little more ravaged than it used to be, but presented with his old, ridiculous charm).

It's for his benefit that she puts on one of her practised smiles and takes his arm.]

To the best bakery in town. [However strange that makes her feel. There are more important things to focus on - now that she has her focus. Things she's seeing more clearly.] And you can tell me how long you were here, before. And when you last saw me.

[That show he's putting on. The Finnick who spent a night knotting rope with her couldn't pull it off so easily, not yet.]

[pimphandoftheking]

[An arm at his low stature does nearly knock him off balance. Nearly.]

I beg your pardon, m'lady.

[Young lady, his mind corrects. This is a progressive City. He attempts to correct his thoughts to accept that it is perfectly fine a young woman can be out alone without issue.]

[makeahowl]

[It's not him that draws her attention. It's something else, a laughing couple passing by. Her eyes shoot up and she looks confused, hurt. Then she looks furious, baring her teeth..

Before focusing on her shoes again.]

[saturniapavonia]

[Roman pushes off of the lamp post. He sees the exchange. It sort of brings about the image of Shelly in the hallways of the school. His half slouching, unhurried gait might catch her by surprise.]

You know them?

[makeahowl]

[Now her gaze is surprised. She stops and stares at him, thinks about answering truthfully and decides against it.]

...What are you doing here?

[tributum]

[She'd hardly recognise the description, though he and District 13 have similar ideas on whether she should be allowed out without an escort. The apology almost makes her regret her tone, and rather than move on through the bar (there's only one person she knows likely to be found in a place like this, and he'd be unmissable) she takes a step back in order to meet his eye level without crouching.

There's just a nod to accept what he says.]

It's busy tonight. Are you from here, or another guest?

[saturniapavonia]

[He really believes himself to be convincingly empathetic to people who don't know him very well. Surprise and a little bit off offense color his features.]

A little bit of this.

[He holds up his beer bottle that was hanging down beside his leg.]

A little bit of that.

[Now the cigarette that streams smoke as he moves it.]

Kind of a party, I guess.

[makeahowl]

[This is not a party.]

IT's not. If it were I wouldn't be here.

[pimphandoftheking]

[His stature and upbringing are usually at odds. Tyrion instantly recognizes her attempt for polite eye contact. Against his will it already endears her somewhat to him. Even for being gruff. Who wouldn't to an imp after all?]

A guest.

[To be perfectly certain he looks one way and then another to see if there is someone else with her.]

And with time and money to spend. Are you thirsty?

[saturniapavonia]

[Kind of, Christina. Sorta. That makes it not quite.]

How come?

[Because there is a whole City around them. A pretty big one. Not a snoozeville suburb hidden in the wood.]